


The Other Half

by ThatPotatoWhoWrites



Series: Halved [2]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy
Genre: F/M, Sith Padmé Amidala
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-29
Updated: 2020-07-17
Packaged: 2021-03-02 22:42:19
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 30
Words: 69,994
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24444529
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThatPotatoWhoWrites/pseuds/ThatPotatoWhoWrites
Summary: After the Jedi have been forced into hiding by order sixty six, they must find a way to liberate the galaxy from the tyrannical reign of the Sith. Padmé discovers more about Malice’s history and why she was split in two.
Relationships: Anakin Skywalker & Obi-Wan Kenobi, Anakin Skywalker & Yoda, Obi-Wan Kenobi & Yoda, Padmé Amidala & Obi-Wan Kenobi, Padmé Amidala & Obi-Wan Kenobi & Anakin Skywalker, Padmé Amidala/Anakin Skywalker
Series: Halved [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1765438
Comments: 73
Kudos: 70





	1. Sand

Anakin could feel the powerful sun beaming down on him mercilessly from above. Soft sand shifted underneath his knees and the hard rock he was leaning on dug into his chest and stomach. The dusty, dry air tickled his nose and throat. Pressed to two of his eyes were mechanical binoculars. They were zoomed in on a tall, white building that gleamed under the sun and stood out against the vibrant sapphire sky. The building wasn't large, but it was surrounded by an impossibly tall wall. Jagged spires rose from within. Men in white armour patrolled its rim. Their guns were held loosely in their arms. 

With the force, he could feel that there were many troopers inside the building, but the majority were sedentary and passive. Pulling the device from his eyes, the compound became nothing more that a white speck on a barren plateau of cracked, parched ground. Only the occasional rock or dehydrated tree could be seen to mark the flat landscape. Sliding down the rock, he sat by its base and ducked his head beneath it. "Let me guess," spoke Obi-Wan, who was seated by Anakin's side. "There's been no change whatsoever." Anakin sent him a levelled glare. Obi-Wan shrugged and smiled. "That's what you said the last twenty times you checked." The master crossed his legs over and placed his palms on his knees.

"We've been waiting for over an hour," Anakin grumbled, lifting an arm to wipe the hot sweat from his brow.

"Are you doubting the senator's capability?" Obi-Wan cocked a groomed brow. Over the last few months since the empire took over, he'd been allowing his already impressive beard to grow out. It was large and bushy now, nearly concealing Obi-Wan's lips.

"No. I know how persuasive she can be," he admitted with a sigh, leaning his head back against the rock behind him. It's surface was burning hot to the touch. Obi-Wan hummed in agreement. Somehow she had persuaded them both to bring her on this mission against their collective better judgement. "I still don't think we should have let her go alone, not until we know for sure Malice can't escape." He crossed his arms over his chest.

"Malice hasn't been in control since you stopped her at the Jedi temple," Obi-Wan regarded Anakin with gentle tenderness. The younger Jedi cast his eyes to the floor. That memory stirred unease within him. The thought of Malice springing to control at any opportune moment and vanishing into the vastness of space with Padmé in tow still made his blood run cold. "You were there when we came to the conclusion that she can't seize consciousness unless prompted by near death or an external influence," Obi-Wan tutted. "You know she locked away in the light of Padmé's mind."

Anakin let out a long sigh and raised worried eyes to his master. "What if she runs into something that nearly kills her? What then?" he asked, cocking a brow.

"Give Mrs Amidala more credit," Obi-Wan spoke. "It takes quite a lot to knock her down." Anakin let out a rush of air through his nose and nodded his head. It was true, Padmé was a lot more difficult to defeat now that she had unhindered access to the force. Still, it wouldn't stop him worrying. Anakin didn't think anything ever would. 

They sat quietly for a little while longer, until lots of little grey specks appeared on the shifting, shimmering horizon. Anakin and Obi-Wan acted like a mid point for the compound behind them and the beings ahead of them. "I think that's them now," Anakin pointed ahead. The specks grew larger and he could feel many, marbled presences approaching. Fronting their advance was a pure white force signature. One he knew well. 

"Looks like she succeeded," Obi-Wan smiled, glancing over at Anakin. "I told you there was no reason to worry." Anakin nodded and rolled his eyes.

Using the force, he reached out to the bright presence. It welcomed him instantly, allowing a sturdy connection to form between the pair. His eyes fluttered shut and the corners of his lips tugged upwards. "So you actually got them to pick up arms? I'm impressed," Anakin chuckled down their force link, but didn't need to say the words out loud. His mind could simply transfer them.

"I rallied what I could," her airy voice drifted through him. "There isn't an army of fighters, but I think you'll find they're more than plenty." Padmé's feelings of triumph were practically tangible. His smile widened.

"Good, we need the fuel in that compound badly," he hummed. "Make sure they know to be ready for nightfall and that they shouldn't use violence unless absolutely necessary." Padmé had gone to enlist locals of the planet to aid them in breaking the empire's control over this religion and harvest the supplies inside. Two Jedi couldn't defeat an entire compound of clones alone, after all.

"They'll be ready by the time we reach you," she responded gently, cutting the link between them. Anakin felt a little sadness in his chest at her missing light, but he knew he would see her soon. The locals they were bringing were tiny, monkey-like men that were known for their tenacity in a fight. Hopefully they would prove their worth when they charged the empires refuelling station, the compound behind them.

Anakin blinked his eyes open, the traces of a smile still lingered on his lips. "I hate it when you do that," Obi-Wan grumbled from beside him as he watched his former padawan with hardened eyes. Anakin sent him a sheepish smile and an innocent shrug. "I never know what you're actually saying to each other."

"Padmé recruited the locals and she says there should be enough to take hold of the station," he jutted a thumb over his shoulder towards the gleaming building behind him.

"Well then," a twinkle returned to Obi-Wan's eyes. "This should be a breeze."

*

Just as predicted, they had claimed the fuel station by the time the twin moons had peaked in the sky. The huge, sandy docking bays were filled with clusters of stormtroopers in white armour. They were all bound and forced onto their knees by thick, scrappy rope. The locals, that only reached up to the trooper's waists were circling around them with large, pointed sticks aimed at their throats. A frosty bite was in the air, making Anakin's breath rise in curling plumes around his face. Thousands of twinkling stars shone in the black sky above. The station's large walls rose tall around them and the gargantuan building with peaking spires was at the opposite end of the compound, standing straight like a gravestone.

The locals were hissing and snapping at the troopers every time they moved. Anakin, Obi-Wan and Padmé were going along the rows of troopers, pulling off their helmets and removing the chips inside their heads. A trooper was leering up at Anakin as he pressed a cylindrical, metal device to the soldier's temple. It let out a wheeze and a click. The soldier jolted and hissed in pain. The Jedi removed the device, but it left behind a circular, metallic plaster that cradled the curve of the clone's head. The trooper stared up at him again, but the anger and animosity behind his eyes was gone. All there was on his face was abstract horror. It was a transition that always broke Anakin's heart to witness and feel, no matter how many times he saw it.

"Anakin, Obi-Wan," Padmé called suddenly, a hint of urgency in her voice. Anakin straightened up, his eyes scanned the docking bays before him. She was a bay over, a trooper was on his feet in front of her and she was holding a blaster to his back. The trooper's hands were bound behind him and his head hung. Padmé nudged him towards them. Obi-Wan, who was closer to Anakin, sent him a confused expression. They waded through the troopers on the floor towards her. A sense of dread washed over him. Her face was taught with anger. "Lift your head," she commanded the trooper as the two Jedi came within a few body lengths.

The trooper lifted his head and Anakin's heart leapt into his mouth. Blue eyes stared at him angrily from within a pale skinned, light haired body. The Jedi traded shocked looks. "You're not a clone," Obi-Wan spoke, his voice hitching.

"Obviously," the blonde man spat, his eyes narrowing to venomous slits. Padmé nudged his back with her blaster, making him go completely still.

"Why are you here with the clones?" Anakin asked, narrowing his eyes and crossing his arms tightly.

The man's eyebrows furrowed and he stared at them incredulously. "I'm a soldier in the empire's grand army," he informed them, speaking slowly like they were toddlers struggling with basic addition. Anakin clenched his teeth and fought down the annoyance that rose within him.

"The empire are recruiting?" Padmé pressed, her voice firm and steady. 

"Have you been living under a rock?" the soldier asked, a wary smile curling his thin lips. Anakin narrowed his eyes. They more or less had been, after all, it wasn't easy to stay informed and evade the empire that was gunning for their heads. "The empire had started an intense recruitment scheme. Everyone is joining," he explained. "I'm one of the first deployed." A hint of pride rose within him.

"What should we do with him?" Padmé asked, flicking her eyes between the two Jedi. 

Obi-Wan pressed his lips into a thin line and ran his fingers through his beard. "Lock him in the barracks," he nodded to the large, white building. "If you find any more, do the same." Padmé nodded and, with the muzzle of her blaster, directed him towards the other end of the compound. Anakin felt anxiousness shift within him. The tactics of the clone's war efforts he knew, but the tactics of completely new soldiers would be difficult to predict.

*

They touched down on Dagobah's mucky surface just as the sun was beginning to peak through the thick canopy above.   
Anakin was seated in the pilot seat of a large cargo ship. In the hold behind him, he could hear the feint chatter of the liberated clones. It normally only took a few minutes to convince the clones to join the Jedi after their chips had been removed, and this time was no exception. The gloomy darkness of the Dagobah jungle was all they could see through the viewport.

In a matter of moments, Anakin, Padmé and Obi-Wan were herding the troopers out of the ship and into the waiting arms of hundreds of other clones. Their whoops and cheers filled the forest air as they reunited with their brothers. There were many ships scattered all across the thick, dewy foliage on the ground. There were Jedi bustling about their makeshift hangar, loading packages on an off ships as well as docking and taking off. Huge trees stretched high above them, blocking out the green sky above them. A misty haze drifted around their feet and long, swinging vines hand from the moss covered trees. The ground was bumpy and riding because of the roots that wound and snaked over them. The humid air ran its wet tongue over his skin. Sweat beaded his forehead. The noise of distant bellows and twittering birds filled the thick air.

Anakin was standing by the bottom of the ramp, surveying as the last of the clones dribbled out of the ship. Obi-Wan followed close behind them and Padmé stood on the opposite side of the ramp. Their eyes met for a moment, and she sent him a warm smile. They didn't need to be connected for him to know what that meant. With a wary glance at Obi-Wan, who wasn't looking, he sent one back. The way her eyes twinkled with delight made his heart swell.


	2. Maliceness

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thought up another story recently. Might be obsessed with it. Will be in the works soon 😏.

Padmè felt herself burst into consciousness. She was lying on her back in a void of complete blackness. Her every breath echoed around her. Slowly, she picked herself up to her feet. When she looked around, all she could see was endless darkness. The force was completely silent. Padmé stared down at her body. She was in one of the gowns she used to wear for the senate. Burgundy fabric pooled all around her legs and puffed out at her waist. There was a net of intricate beading all along the tight clothing on her abdomen. A large hair ornament weighed her head down. Confusion stirred within her. Padmé hadn't been in such formal clothing for months. Pressing her lips into a thin line, she took a few wandering steps forwards. They thundered around her.

"Padmé," a feminine voice whispered from behind.

Padmé twirled on her heels. Directly behind her was a tall, slender mirror. Her reflection was staring at her with the same, mildly concerned eyes she was. Something about its image didn't sit well with her. Although it was identical to her own, her gut screamed that something was off. Her two brows tugged together. Lifting a hand, she brushed her fingers along the cold surface of the mirror and traced her curving cheeks.

The reflection lurched forwards, gripping Padmé's hand in a vice like hold. Padmé gasped, taking a step back and trying to pull her hand away but the hold was too strong. Before her very eyes the reflection shifted. The dress morphed into a black, hooded robe. Her skin lost its colour, becoming pale and pasty. Two wide, yellow eyes stared at her from behind the mirror. "Let go," Padmé demanded breathily, tugging her arm away to no avail.

The reflection leaned forwards slowly, the wide eyes narrowing to slits. The reflective surface dissolved around her, leaving the two women alone in the abyss. "It's about time we met, Senator," the reflection had a deep, guttural voice and a thick nabian accent. The hair on the back of Padmé's neck stood on end and she continually tried to tug her hand away.

"Who are you?" Padmé asked, her brows pulling down into a frown. The reflection released her and Padmé automatically drew her arm back into her chest, rubbing at her wrist. She took a cautious step backwards.

"You don't know?" the reflection asked, tilting its head to one side. Rings of darkness encircled her eyes. Padmé shook her head slowly from side to side. The reflection's top lip curled upwards. "I'm the other half that makes you whole," she explained, placing a hand over her heart.

Padmé's brows shot up. "Malice," she stated. She scanned her eyes up and down the length of the woman in front of her. So this was the evil that the Jedi disliked so much? This was the one that killed Grievous?

The corners of Malice's lips tugged upwards as she began to stalk around her like a predator circling injured prey. "So it's true, you know nothing of us or our creation," she commented smugly. Padmé tracked Malice with her eyes. The muscles in her shoulders went taught.

"Would you care to explain?" Padmé asked, shifting her weight on her feet.

"I could..." Malice sighed, lifting a hand to stroke at her chin. "I just don't want to." Padmé clenched her jaw tightly. "It brings me too much pleasure to see you and your Jedi fumbling around in the dark like scared children." She halted and sent Padmé a fanged grin. "You don't even know the extent of the power I have over our body, do you?”

"I don't need to know," Padmé snapped, clenching her hands by her sides. "If you ever break loose, I know the Jedi will stop you."

"You hold too much faith in them," Malice tutted, resuming her pacing. "If only you knew the truth of our past, you'd never see them the same way again. They are hypocritical fools."

"Then it's good I don't know," Padmé responded calmly, but her interest was peaked. What could have possibly happened to them in the past that would make Malice think it would change her perception of the Jedi?

"Oh yes, I forgot," Malice rolled her eyes. "You could not think bad of the Jedi. Not when your beloved is one of them."

"What do you know of Anakin and I's relationship," Padmé hissed, stepping into Malice's pathway. Their faces were inches apart. The Sith stared down at her with a crooked, smug grin.

"I know it tore his little love sick heart to have to fight me whilst knowing you were with me," she chuckled, leaning closer to Padmé's face. "I also know that if I were to ever break free and drag you along with me, he'd never be able to kill us." Padmé felt anger rising within her. Malice was evil. Twisting something so pure to use it to her own advantage was despicable but what else should she have expected from a Sith?

Padmé ran her tongue along her teeth. "You will never get free, Malice," Padmé snapped, narrowing her eyes to slits. "If it's the last thing I do, I'm going to make sure you never see the light of day again."

Malice let out a throaty snarl, lunging for Padmé and wrapping a hand around her neck. The void trembled angrily around them. Padmé grasped at Malice's wrists, choking on her non-existent breaths. Ringing erupted in her ears and spots danced across her eyes. She fought against the grip, trying in vein to pull herself away, but the Sith was too strong. Unnaturally so. "I will regain control, Senator," Malice hissed in her face. Padmé choked, pressure was building on her temples. Scalding yellow eyes bore into her own. "When I do, I'm going to kill that little boyfriend of yours and rip apart the Jedi order." Tugging Padmé closer, she whispered in her ear, "you won't even know it's happening until you wake up on top of a mound of dead bodies."

Just like that, a blinding light filled the void. Padmé could feel Anakin reaching for her. Malice hissed, shielding her eyes from the intense brightness and releasing the senator's neck. The light coiled around Padmé, tugging her out of the void and back into her body.

*

Anakin was pulled into wakefulness when he detected something shifting within the force. Blinking his eyes open, his brows began to furrow. Darkness smothered out his eyesight, but he could make out a starry sky through the thick forest canopy above. The hammock he was lying in cradled him with warmth. Sitting up, he scanned the forest around him. It was nearly completely pitch black, but he could just see the hundreds of hammocks that were strung up between the trees like horizontal cocoons. They were all like flies trapped in the web of dormancy. 

Blinking slowly, he rubbed at his eyes. The humid air blanched his skin in gentle moisture. The creatures of the night creaked and chirped. There were some low snores from a number of different hammocks. Nothing looked off, but he could still feel the force nudging at him like a twitchy eye. Blowing out a sigh, he swung his legs over the edge of the hammock and tenderly stepped onto the soft, mossy ground below. Instinctively, he reached out for Padmé with his mind. Normally she slept just a few hammocks away from him, but he couldn't feel her in the immediate vicinity. His heart rate quickened. In the hammock dangling just beside his, Obi-Wan grumbled in his sleep. Anakin stared down at his former master's face. It was blurred and grey, but could just make out the deep lines of a frown. It seemed he felt the disturbance as well.

Closing his eyes over, Anakin submersed himself into the flow of the force in a bid to locate Padmé. He felt her a fair distance away, deep in the heart of the jungle. Her presence was humming with mild distress and her normally pure light had the faintest smudges of grey. Running a hand down his face and opening his eyes, he began walking towards her. He weaved through the hammocks, ducking beneath and weaving between them. Despite his grogginess, he didn't trip over the curling roots or step in the thick mud. The force directed where he put his feet. Soon enough, he had left the web of hammocks and was trudging through the thick undergrowth, towards the heart of the jungle.

Anakin poked at Padmé's mind with his own, but it was unresponsive and stiff. It felt like she was asleep. He absentmindedly wondered what would draw her so far away from the base camp. He was too far away to glean much information without making a connection, but he could sense her dormant mind was focused and a little scared. The area of the jungle she was in was known for being boggy and dangerous. They had lost a few of their freed clones to its mucky depths. It didn't concern him however, because he knew Padmé would have reached out for help had she been stuck in a swamp.

After a short while of walking and puzzling Padmé out with his mind, he found her. A large gap in the canopy let streams of blinding moonlight illuminate a huge, glimmering bog. She was staring out across it. The pale beams of light highlighted the curves and contours of her body. Anakin walked cautiously towards her from behind. "Padmé!" he beckoned her quietly, but she didn't flinch. He reached out and placed a hand on her shoulder. No reaction. Turning her round to face him, his brows shot up. She was slouching over, her head dropping forwards slightly. Despite her eyes being open, they were glossy and expressionless. One of them was glowing a nauseating yellow. Anakin shook her shoulders again. Nothing.

Furrowing his brows, he placed his fingers on the sides of her temples and closed his eyes over. Padmé's mind was still completely dormant. In all aspects, she was still asleep. Anakin's jaw clenched. The walls around her mind didn't immediately cave to his touch as they normally did. This close, he could feel wisps of her emotions leaking out between her shields. Confusion, concern and fear. She must be caught up in a dream. Jutting his jaw to one side, he put a little more pressure on her defences. Finally, her attention shifted to him. She opened her mind to him despite still being asleep. What he sensed within made his heart skip a beat. The dark presence in the depths of her mind was weakly bonded with the light. Anakin wrapped himself around Padmé's mind and tugged her away from Malice, towards consciousness. The darkness recoiled from his light, slinking back into the depths of her mind. The connection was cut. Her eyes returned to normal.

Anakin peeled open his eyes and dropped his hands to her shoulders. Life gently began to return to her eyes. She blinked slowly, the muscles on her face twitching. "Padmé?" he whispered, leaning close. Honeyed irises flicked up to meet his own. After a moment of blank staring, she frowned and stared around. Grasping gently at his forearms, the corners of her lips tugged downwards. Frightened eyes landed on his.

"Where are we?" she asked in a quiet voice, cocking a brow. 

"We're not too far from the base camp," he told her, gently squeezing at her shoulders. "The swamp region."

Confusion warped her face before another flash of terror darted across her eyes. "Did Malice escape?" her voice hitched and she stared at him intently. 

Anakin shook his head. "You formed a connection with Malice," he responded, dropping his hands back to his sides. "I think you were just sleepwalking."

Padmé's face lifted in realisation and she wrapped her arms around her stomach. "I met her," she uttered, sounding like she didn't quite believe it herself. Anakin's brows shot up. "I spoke to Malice.” From the way her nose crinkled, he knew she had indeed met the Sith. That explained the connection, he supposed. Padmé turned away from him, facing towards the glittering swamp and running her hands down her arms.

"What did she say?" he asked. Stepping forwards and standing by her side at the swampy banks. His shoes sank into the thick mud with a squelch.

"She told me that I have a bad past with the Jedi," she responded, deep wrinkles forming on her brow. Anakin supposed it was possible. Padmé was missing the memories of how she was split in half. There could be other stuff she was missing. She let out a wavering sigh as she stared up at him. "She knows about us, Ani," she told him in a deathly quiet voice. "She said it really hurt you to fight her at the temple."

Anakin's jaw tightened. The fact Malice had picked up on his distress disturbed him. There was no telling how she could use that against him in the future. "I was scared," he admitted, running a hand through his hair. "I knew that if I hurt her, I'd be hurting you as well." He brushed a few fingers delicately along the curve of her cheek. Padmé nodded slowly, a glum sadness lingering behind her eyes.

"I don't think she knows the full extent of it," Padmé furrowed her brows and stared up at him. "She called you my boyfriend." Anakin reared back slightly, mild annoyance flickering within him. Somehow, he'd managed to completely bypass that portion of their relationship and jump straight into marriage. "If she is like me and doesn't remember any of the time I'm conscious, how could she know?"

Anakin pressed his lips into a thin line. "She said she could feel our bond," he hummed.

"You knew?" she asked and he nodded slowly. Padmé looked as though she was about to protest, but she suddenly stopped, bit down on her lip and pulled her brows together. "Maybe it's like the way I started hating Palpatine for no good reason," she lifted her eyes up to Anakin. "Malice's hatred for Sidious polluted my view of him, so maybe my love for you is influencing her," she suggested, the lines on her forehead deepened.

The thought rose doubt within him. Malice had never seemed particularly fond of him and he could recall more than a few colourful insults she threw his way. Anakin's mind scoured there past interactions for proof of Padmé's theory and it hit him in the face like a slap. His jaw fell open. "I think you're right," he murmured, lifting a hand to rub at his throat. "Malice could have killed me more than once, but she never did." Padmé's brows lifted. A smile curled his lips and he draped an arm over her shoulders. "I think your love saved my life," he chuckled.

"Malice nearly killed you?" Padmé's voice was higher than normal. Anakin could feel the fear and guilt bubbling away inside of her. He pulled her into his arms and rested a chin on top of her head.

"I was taken off guard, that's all," he assured her softly. "I wouldn't loose to her Padmé, not when I know you’re trapped underneath all her evil." Padmé wrapped her arms around him tightly and burrowed her face into his chest. A fine tremble rattled her shoulders, instantly alarming him. "What's wrong?" he asked. Padmé stared up at him with tears glittering in her eyes. A heavy feeling settled in his stomach.

"She told me she was going to kill you," Padmé whimpered, her grip on him tightening.

"I don't think she can," Anakin said, cupping the side of her face in his hand and tracing her high cheekbones with his thumb. "You won't let her." Padmé leaned into his touch, blinking back the tears. "I won't let her," he added, his features hardening. The corners of her lips quivered up into a smile.

"Good," she hummed. "Maybe now I can start paying you back for all the times you've saved my life," she laughed. 

Anakin shook his head with a smile. With the backs of his fingers, he tucked a few loose strands of her hair behind her ear. "Saving your life wasn't just out of the kindness of my heart," he chuckled, staring down into her golden brown eyes. "If you died, I'd be completely lost."

Padmé sent him a crooked smile. "Then I guess it's a good thing I'm still around," she teased. Anakin chuffed a breath and leaned down to place a gentle kiss on her warm forehead. Placing a hand at the nape of her neck, he cradled her close.


	3. No Time

Anakin was gently pulled back to consciousness with a reassuring weight on his chest. Peeling his eyes open, he muffled a yawn. A few beams of daylight poured through the canopy and into the murky gloom of the jungle. Thick trees rose tall all around him. He was lying on a soft bed of moss, Padmé was curled into his side with an arm placed on his torso. A fine mist blew over them. The lively sounds of the jungle twittered in the thick morning air. 

Anakin lifted a head and stared down at Padmé. The expression she wore was peaceful. Not pained. Not fearful. Not worried. With his eyes, he traced her high cheekbones and relished in the sight of her sun kissed skin. A light dusting of freckles peppered the bridge of her nose. Rolling onto his side, he rested his head on his arm and pulled her in close. Padmé's arms were cradled against her chest and he could feel she was still asleep. She nuzzled into him, putting a smile on his face. He let his eyes flutter shut and relished in the warmth her body radiated. It was very rare that they got to spend the night together and when they did it was always Padmé who woke first. Anakin hated when he woke up and she was already gone. It left him feeling a little empty.

With his free hand, he began to stroke absentmindedly at her hair. It was soft and sleek beneath his fingertips. For a long while, he lay just enjoying their embrace. When she finally began to stir, his heart drooped a little. What he wouldn't do just to save this moment forever. Total peace. The empire and the war nothing but a distant dream.

When she did awaken, she immediately craned her head up towards him and blinked against the light. A smile perked her lips. He shot her back a grin of his own. Much to his delight, she draped an arm over his side and pressed her forehead against his chest. He leant down and planted a kiss on the crown of her head, granting him a soft grunt. 

They didn't get to spend much time together. Anakin's wrist com began to buzz. With a sigh he pulled himself away from Padmé and pushed himself to sit up. One day, one day they would be able to lie in together and he was going to relish every moment of it. Pressing down on the wrist com on the back of his gauntlet, he began rubbing away at his eyes and let out a silent yawn. "Anakin, where are you?" Obi-Wan asked, mild amusement lingering in his tone. "I can't find you at the base."

Anakin's eyes widened. It had seemed like a good idea the night before to sleep out in the jungle with Padmé, but now he was realising just how suspicious that was. Padmé pushed herself up to sit beside him, bleary eyes watching him closely. "I am at the swamp sector," Anakin responded quickly. "I woke early and decided to go and meditate." He grimaced at the sound of his own lie.

"Right," Obi-Wan spoke with a twang of doubt. "Well get back here, we have our next assignment." Obi-Wan hummed down the transmission.

Anakin ran a hand back through his hair. "What is it this time?" he asked calmly, despite the nerves that were flying around like a live wire.

"Holos of Master Unduli have surfaced," Obi-Wan responded. "We've tracked them back to an Imperial prison and it will be our job to rescue her."

"Sounds fun," Anakin chuckled. "I'll be there soon."

"Good," Obi-Wan hummed. "Could you inform Padmé that Master Windu was looking for her to organise a negotiation mission with Hondo," he stated and abruptly ended the transmission. Anakin felt the colour drain from his face. He looked over at Padmé who was wearing a very similar expression. They locked eyes and let out a simultaneous sigh.

*

The cockpit of the ship Anakin piloted was unnaturally silent. There was a low hum that reverberated around him as it hurtled through hyperspace, but it was silenced by Obi-Wan's quietness as he leaned back into the co-pilot chair. A tenseness spread across Anakin's chest and he began pulling apart a loose thread on his tunic. There was something in his former master's scowl that was unnerving him. Forlorn eyes were staring ahead emptily and a hand was stroking at his beard. It felt like a balloon was slowly filing the air around them. The glow of hyperspace shone in through the viewport. Anakin kept his eyes trained forwards. The cockpit was small and a large console curved before him with hundreds of blinking lights, colourful buttons and flashing scanners. To the untrained eye, it was a lot to take in. To him, it was as simple as reading.

"Anakin," Obi-Wan spoke suddenly, making the younger Jedi jolt. Anakin turned to face him. The Jedi master’s eyes were still focused ahead, a deep line forming between his brows. Anakin's heart leapt into his mouth. The tightness around his chest intensified and he halted his fidgeting.

"Yes, Obi-Wan?" he asked meekly, clearing his throat.

"I know I will never be able to stop you seeing Padmé, but you need to start making more of an effort to hide it," Obi-Wan spoke in a hushed tone, hurt twinkling in his eyes. Anakin's stomach clenched. He never would stop seeing Padmé, but that didn't mean he felt no guilt for lying to his master so much for so long. "The other Jedi won't turn a blind eye to it forever," Obi-Wan finally met Anakin gaze with saddened eyes. "If we weren't in a crisis, you would already have been investigated."

Anakin pressed his lips into a thin line. That stung. It hurt him that he might have to choose between the Jedi and Padmé. Being a Jedi brought him satisfaction and joy beyond belief. Being with Padmé made him feel complete. The very thought of letting go of the Jedi order pained him beyond belief, but they were the ones forcing him to pick. Padmé had never asked that of him. Not once. Gritting his teeth, he glanced up at his master with a straight face. "I know," he whispered.

*

Padmé was just about to clamber into her hammock, when a little, green Jedi master appeared at her feet. The forest around them was quiet. Orange rays of light seeped through the canopy. Everything around her was a greeny-gray colour. The thick tree trunks were covered in pale lichen and the air stunk of damp wood. Birdsong twittered through the air. A few of the hammocks were already weighed down and heavy. Inaudible whispers lingered in the air. Some were just clambering into their makeshift beds. "Speak with you, can I?" Yoda peered up at her gently.

"Of course," Padmé responded quietly. The old man began tottering off into the woods, nodding his head for her to follow. She walked closely behind him. The numbers of hammocks tied between the gnarled tree trunks dwindled fast until it was just the two of them strolling through bare trees and mucky ground.

"Last night, a dream you had about Malice?" Yoda hummed, glancing up towards her.

"Yes," Padmé nodded, wrapping her arms around her stomach. "I think she spoke to me whilst I was sleeping." The warm air washed over her skin. Frowning, she let out a deep sigh. "She was just taunting me." The grand master hummed beneath his breath. His twisted walking stick tapped away at the ground. 

"Wonder, I do, why this happened now," Yoda scratched at his chin and sniffled. Padmé stared down at him with a quizzically cocked brow. "Have something to do with your old mental wall, I think this does," Yoda explained, rolling his shoulders. "Put there to stop you two from communicating, it must have been."

Padmé reared back slightly. The thick fog swirled around her feet. "Why would someone want us to stop communicating?" She murmured, ducking below a particularly low hanging branch and grumbling as a little twig covered in moss became lodged in her hair. Picking it out, she discarded it to the floor.

"Unsure, I am," Yoda responded with a soft sigh. 

"Maybe the fact I was the one blocked from the force has something to do with only Malice remembering how we were created?" she pondered out loud. "Perhaps the wall was to stop me from knowing she existed." Padmé didn't know why someone would split them but only allow one of them to know the other existed. She also didn't understand how Sidious had ended up in control of Malice. It was a mystery that she both wanted solved and didn't. Part of her was afraid that if she went digging in her past, she might find things she was better off not knowing.

"A strong possibility, that is," Yoda agreed.


	4. It All Goes Sarthal

Anakin and Obi-Wan crept through the wide, stone corridors of the Junde Imperial Prison. Glassless, slotted Windows peered our onto a blackened barren wasteland that led to a steep cliff face. The only noise was their timid footsteps and soft breathing. Dim lights shone down from above. The air was musky and dry. The force was dark and choppy like a storm at sea in the dead of the night. Every so often they would pass by a tall, metallic door that had numbers carved into its hard surface just below a grated window. Anakin was leaning on the balls of his feet, his old master following close behind.

The corridors were sparsely filled, a fact that was greatly concerning him. If this really was an imperial facility that was holding a Jedi master captive, then surely they'd have more security than the occasional clone. Then again, maybe the Sith victory over the Jedi had made them cocky. Lazy. Perhaps they simply thought the Jedi had given in and that none would come for Luminara. It was perplexing, but he was more than happy to make use of their lax security. They rounded a sharp bend into an even longer, darker corridor, brining them face to face with a pair of troopers. Wordlessly, Anakin and Obi-Wan jumped into action, cutting the muzzles off the troopers blasters and knocking them flat on the floor. 

The troopers landed with a thud, their armour clattering. Anakin planted a knee on one troopers chest and yanked his helmet off his face. The Jedi blew out a sigh of relief when he saw a clone face staring back up at him. Obi-Wan pressed a foot the other trooper's chest, keeping him pressed against the ground. Lowering his humming sabre to the clones neck, Anakin bit out, "where is the Jedi master being kept." The clone sneered up at him, eyes narrowing. Anakin lowered the blade so that it singed at the clone's neck. He hissed in response.

"I'd never betray the empire as you did," the clone snapped, curling his upper lip. Anakin clenched his jaw and took in a deep breath to calm himself. This clone wasn't himself, he had no idea what he was talking about.

"Tell me, or I'm going to kill you and your buddy," Anakin lied. He wished he had brought the chip remover. It wasn't fair that they had to leave these men suffering under the influence of the Emperor, but they were in a rush. The quicker they found Luminara Unduli, the quicker they could get out which meant there was less time for something to go wrong. The clone beneath Anakin looked like he was going to hurl another insult, but the soldier beneath Obi-Wan beat his friend to the punch.

"The spire. At the top," the clone admitted, thunking his helmeted head backwards onto the ground. Anakin and Obi-Wan traded a glance. With a nod, they knocked the two men out with sharp blows to the side of the head. Now, the race was really on.

The two Jedi zipped through the stone hallways, knocking any resistance they met unconscious. They were swift and silent warriors, making their was to a precarious set of winding stairs in minutes. Together, they dashed up them, stopping before the incredibly thick and heavy metal door that lay beyond. A keypad was cut awkwardly into the stone wall. Anakin blew out a huff of amusement. Igniting his lightsaber, he plunged it into the keypad. It sparked and hissed violently, but the large door began cranking upwards.

With minimal hesitation, they dipped beneath it and into the bright space beyond. It was a circular room with several large, open windows that were cut into looping designs. The force was completely silent in the room and sitting at its centre with the back of her unmistakable black robes facing them was Master Unduli. Obi-Wan and Anakin traded a wide eyed stare. She was unnaturally still. The draping fabric of her headpiece that would normally sway with her breath and balance, but it was completely immobile. "Master Unduli?" Anakin called, stepping towards her. Obi-Wan lingered just behind him, but crept out onto the wide, circular room. There was no response.

Anakin placed a hand on her shoulder. It was cold and ridged. Peering around, he caught sight of something that made his blood run cold. Instead of the master's green skinned face, there was the crooked, metal snout of a B1 battle droid. He lifted alarmed eyes to meet Obi-Wan's as his master drew closer. "It's a trap," he snapped, his heart pounding in his chest. It was too late. Several pieces of the floor burst upwards into columns. Electricity crackled between them, frying the whole room, including the two Jedi. It ran its claws all along Anakin's nerves, causing him to stiffen with a cry and crumple to the floor. The pain was so intense that lights danced in front of his eyes. High pitched ringing erupted in his ears, drowning out the noise of his own screams. Blackness crept into his peripheral vision. It wasn't long until his mind caved to the pain and knocked him completely unconscious.

*

Padmé had never spent much time with Mace Windu. Although they talked sparingly over the course of the clone wars, it had only ever been about business. Anakin had spoken highly of Windu's skill, but often complained that the master treated him like a petulant child. As she sat with him in a small cockpit, nearly shoulder to shoulder with only the streaks of hyperspace to entertain them, she found herself quietly observing him through the force. Windu was a bright light, but she could sense a little of the darkside swirling within his mind. It wasn't particularly potent, but it was there. The flight console blinked away in front of them.

Another thing she noticed about the master, was his sadness and disappointment. It seemed the Emperor's rise to power had really taken its tole on him and knocked at his confidence. Then again, everyone had been down since democracy was dissolved. The first month on Dagobah had been a constant battle of fighting through a haze of misery. The Jedi missed their home and for once the Jedi younglings hadn't been little balls of restless energy. Yoda always seemed to know what to say however, because a couple of encouraging words from him were all the children needed not to be scared any longer.

A sudden surge of uneasiness washed over her, pulling her from her thoughts. Almost instantly she knew something had happened to Anakin. Biting down on her lip, she closed her eyes over and let out a long exhale. She could feel his presence was some distance away. Straining with effort, she gave it a gentle poke. He was unconscious. Flicking her eyes open she ran a hand along her jaw. Although worry began to rise within her, she didn't let it drown her senses. It may seem like Anakin had run into trouble, but she knew he was an expert at getting out of tricky situations. Whatever challenge he was facing, she knew he would be fine in the end. 

‘Worried for your boyfriend?’ An ethereal, familiar voice whispered in her mind. Padmé stiffened. Was Malice speaking to her whilst she was still awake? Her heart began pounding in her chest. How was she speaking to her? ‘Oh, I see, you trust him to survive.’ Malice cackled. ‘What an awful surprise that will be when he one day doesn't.’ Padmé began gritting her teeth. That Sith knew nothing. It didn't matter what she said. Still, Padmé could feel the darkness within her rising and shifting around just beneath the surface. Malice was just trying to manipulate her no doubt. ‘Manipulate you?’ Malice cackled. ‘That would be too easy.’ Padmé clenched her hands into tight fists,

"Are you alright?" Mace asked, eyeing her up and down warily. The darkness delved back into her mind, leaving her alone with her thoughts.

"Malice was speaking to me," she admitted, her brow furrowing. Leaning back into her seat, she crossed her arms over her chest. Mace let out a low hum and leant down onto his armrest. His dark eyes stared out at the blue vortex of hyperspace with pinched lips.

"I supposed that's to be expected now that she had a direct link to your mind and no wall to get in her way," he let out a long sigh and stared over at her. "Whatever that Sith says, don't listen. She's just trying to get under your skin."

Padmé nodded, a sad smile perking her lips. "I know," she murmured. "I think she is just angry that she doesn't have control." 

"The Sith don't need a reason to be angry," Mace snorted. "They are simply the embodiment of rage and hatred." Padmé nodded her head and smiled, but she wasn't too sure she agreed with that. The Jedi were supposed to be embodiments of peace and serenity, but they were still flawed. They could be cracked and they could crumble. The Sith were living beings too, so she knew it would be the same for them. Except from Malice perhaps. After all, she literally was just made of the darkness in Padmé's mind. There was no room in her for anything but aggression. Perhaps the only good emotions she got were the feint traces Padmé left behind. In all aspects, Malice was a true Sith and perhaps one of the few that had no attachments to the light.


	5. Dokit

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Had technical issues yesterday, hadn’t realised I didn’t post a chapter. I guess there’ll be two today for compensation 😏.

Anakin peeled his eyes open. His head was pounding. His neck was bent at an awkward angle forwards, tense pain in his back. It felt like he was sitting against something cold and hard. Craning his head up stiffly, shocks of pain crackled all down his body. Peering around, he let out a long huff of air. He was in a small, square room that had sturdy stone walls and flooring. Several, slitted, tiny windows let in thin beams of greying light. The brick he was seated against dug into his back. A heavy, metallic door was slotted into the wall opposite with a tiny, barred window. A dusty musk tickled his throat.

As he glanced aground, he caught sight of two very familiar faces. Obi-Wan was chained to the wall beside him, speaking in hushed tones to Kit Fisto, another Jedi master who was also in metallic bindings. Anakin blinked hard and shifted, something was tight around his wrists, clanking as he moved. He glanced down. Chunky chains were also holding him down. The force was muted and quiet. These bindings must have been limiting his use of it. "So, you're awake?" Kenobi grumbled over to Anakin, cocking a brow.

"I hope I didn't miss much," Anakin groaned, pushing at the wall to sit up. Every joint and bone in his body began shifting and popping.

"It turns out Master Unduli is already dead," Obi-Wan sighed, sadness cracking his features. Anakin's heart sank a little as he glared venomously at the ground. "We walked into the same trap Master Fisto did," he nodded his head to the green skinned Jedi master. Kit’s large black eyes gazed gentle between them both.

"We think the only reason they haven't killed us is because they need information," Kit Fisto's heavily accented voice bounced around the room. "They want the location of the rest of the Jedi from you."

"Master Fisto was tracking down one of the Kaminoan doctors that fled the empire," Obi-Wan shuffled slightly, leaning back against the wall. Anakin raised his brows. What would make a doctor abandon the empire? "We think he was chased out because he found a way to liberate all the clones." 

Anakin's jaw went slack. “That's ideal," he chuffed. If they could stop the clones, the empire would have no army to defend themselves. It would have to be quickly though. He had a feeling that before long, the clones would be replaced with naturally produced humans. A fire of urgency took light beneath his feet. They needed to get out of this prison. "Shall we get out of here?" he lifted his brows to the other Jedi. 

"That would be easier said than done," Kit Fisto commented with a huff. 

Anakin let out a pained sigh. "I can make a call for backup," he replied. Obi-Wan clenched his jaw and Fisto pulled his face into a confused frown. With what little connection he had to the force, he submersed himself within its pathetically small flow. Everything buzzed and fizzed around him like static, but he could still make out the warped shape of Padmé's force presence. He narrowed in on it, straining so hard his body went completely tense. Although he couldn't quite make it to her, her attention turned to him. It's warm serenity enveloped and surrounded him, allowing him to blow out a soft sigh of relief. "Padmé?" he spoke, squeezing his eyes shut tight. Due to the weakness of their connection, he had to speak aloud to ensure he was heard on her end.

"I'm here," she murmured back. Her airy voice bounced around in his mind, but it was distant and weak. He caught flashes of what she was feeling. Primarily concern.

"We've been caught in the Junde Imperial Prison. Can you send help?" He asked, his brow furrowed as her consciousness began to slip away from him. It strained him to hold onto her. He could sense her speaking to someone else. There was the occasional syllable he picked up on, but it was indecipherable. Beside him, the Jedi masters were shifting and watching him intently.

"Master Windu and I are on our way," she answered finally, her voice quickly fading. What little connection they had was ripping.

"Don't go into the cell at the top of the spire," he instructed her firmly, deep creases formed on his forehead as he felt her warmth slipping away. "It's a trap."

"Understood," she responded, so faintly he wasn't even sure he heard her correctly. Their connection finally snapped, leaving a cold emptiness creeping around his mind. Blowing out a heavy sigh, he blinked his eyes open.

"What a strong connection you must have with Mrs Amidala," Kit Fisto commented, his face solemn and grave. Obi-Wan's eyes were closed over, his head tilted up towards the ceiling. Anakin felt unease settling in his stomach. The last thing he wanted to do was flaunt their bond in front of other Jedi, but there was no other choice. 

"We have saved each other's lives many times," Anakin cleared his throat awkwardly, glancing down at the dusty floor. A strange tension pulled his chest taught. "I suppose that does create a unique trust." Fisto pressed his lips into a thin line and blinked over his large eyes. 

"Is she sending back up?" Obi-Wan asked, raking his hands through his hair and dropping them back into his lap. He glanced at Anakin with weary, expectant eyes. Fisto peered at Obi-Wan, his frown deepening even further.

"Yes," Anakin confirmed, crossing his legs into s basket. "I think she was traveling somewhere with Master Windu, so they are coming together." Although he wasn't fond of the idea of Padmé coming to the prison, he knew Mace was more than competent. If Malice was to break free, Windu would be able to subdue her and still break them free. Anakin internally reassured himself that she would be fine. The Sith couldn't get free unless she had a close encounter with death, which wouldn't be likely. At least, he hoped it wouldn't.

The door to the cell slid open with a hiss. All three Jedi went still. Their eyes flicked up towards the door. Count Dooku stepped in, his large cape fanned out behind him. "Dooku," Obi-Wan snapped, his eyes narrowing. The Sith approached them with his head high and hands clasped behind his back. "I should have know. This trap has your stink all over it."

"I'm flattered you recognise my work, Kenobi," Dooku grumbled. The edge of his pale, thin lips perked upwards. 

"Still nothing but a servant to your master?" Fisto commented, a hint of slyness lingering on his tone.

"I'm not the one in chains," Dooku drawled, clenching his jaw. "I'm sure you know what I want from you, so why not just save us both the effort and tell me the whereabouts of the rebels." Anakin's brow furrowed. Is that what the empire was calling them now? Rebels? His nose crinkled in disgust. He preferred democracies last stand.

"Going by that logic, you should just give up now," Anakin hissed, leaning back against the wall.

Dooku raised a decrepit hand before them. Electricity crackled between his fingers. It's pale flashes of light rose the hairs on the back of his neck. "Now, now," Dooku grimaced. "You know I'm no quitter."

*

The moment their ship touched down on the arid plateau, Mace Windu turned to Padmé with a grim expression. The cockpit whirred as it powered down. Blinking lights flicked off and the powerful hum of the engine halted. Steeling herself for whatever he was about to say, she clenched her hands tightly. "Stay on the ship," Windu commanded, rising to his feet. Padmé stilled slightly, a frown forming on her brow. She could be of great use to Mace, with her ability to connect to Anakin. She could locate him without having to make any detours or stops to interrogate clones, risking their presence being revealed. "The last thing we need is another Sith on the loose," he added sharply, before she could object.

Padmé bit down on her tongue and slumped back into her seat. "Comm whilst you are returning and I'll have the engines fired up," she coughed, crossing her arms over her chest. The ship was a slow starter. It was used for transporting cargo, hitch was ideal for covert missions across the stars. Windu nodded and dipped out of the ship.

Padmé found herself completely alone with nothing to look at but the barren, dry landscape that cut off abruptly into an incredibly steep cliff. The grey-blue sky shone meagre rays of weak sunlight down on the rocky ground. A few dead plants sprouted up here and there. The success of the Junde prison relied on its surrounding terrain. If a prisoner escaped, they wouldn't survive the wasteland. With a sigh, she watched as huge cloud of dust, she knew to be Mace Windu on a speeder bike, retreated along the edge of the cliff towards a huge, castle like building that had a singular, impossibly tall spire. In his wake he left a trail of disturbed dust. The building was the size of her pinky nail on the horizon, but she could still feel the way the grey stone permeated misery. 

Biting down on her lip, she gently scanned the building for Anakin. It took her seconds to find him. His presence was beaten down and weary. Her heart ached. It had been several hours since he'd reached out for her help, and a lot could happen that time. Anakin's presence perked the moment he detected her. He flashed out a warning, but she could tell why. Perhaps it was the spire trap he was concerned about. Maybe he didn't think she'd heard him. Their connection had been pretty ropey at the time and it hadn't been made any easier by the suspicious glaring Mace had been giving her. The rest of that journey had been Mace quizzing her on her relationship with Anakin and how she had been able to connect with him from so far away. Padmé had been forced to lie for her husband's sake, but from the look on Windu's face, she knew he hadn't believed her. She began picking at the edge of the white, fur cloak she wore.

The thought of Anakin being found out made her stomach sink. The Jedi life was everything to him. Helping people and defending peace gave him so much satisfaction and happiness. It would tear him apart if he was expelled from the order. It was the only life he knew aside from slavery. Padmé decided not to entertain such thoughts any longer, they were only upsetting her. They could deal with that bridge when and if they were forced to cross it.

Taking one last look and noticing that Mace had completely vanished, no doubt reaching the prison, she let her eyes flutter shut and relaxed back into her seat. The thought of Master Windu brought back the memory of why she was forced to stay in this little cock pit when Anakin was out there suffering. Malice. Her evil other half. The concept was still foreign to her and felt like nothing more than a bad joke. A scary joke. Part of her had concluded she was just loosing her mind. The voice she heard was just a concoction of her imagination and the Sith she met was nothing more than a nightmare. She simply couldn't fathom only being part of a whole human. Padmé had emotions and connections. She'd lived most of her life completely unaware of the evil within. How could she only be half a person?

‘Pay attention,’ Malice's harsh voice scolded her from within.

Padmé's eyes snapped open. A cold feeling washed over her. Goosebumps prickled her skin. Peering out at the landscape, she noticed a huge dusty cloud hurtling towards her. It's presence was dark and ominous. That wasn't Windu. Her chest went tight. Padmé had minutes before this new threat was upon her. Panic thrashed within her. Rising to her feet, she glanced around. Their ship was tiny and it wouldn’t start in time for her to flee. There was nowhere she could hide. ‘Let me out,’ Malice hissed. ‘I can get us out of this.’

Padmé clenched her jaw. Not even if she was on her deathbed would she willingly let Malice out. She didn't even know how to. ‘Lower your walls. Don't be stubborn,’ Malice's tone had picked up a hint of desperate aggression. 

"Not a chance," Padmé hummed, standing to her feet. Her heart leapt into her mouth when she saw that the speeder was nearly upon her. "You're staying right where you are." Malice hissed, but Padmé drew her defences tightly around her mind, silencing the protesting Sith.

Padmé let out a withering sigh. There was only one option. She couldn't hide in this little shuttle and she couldn't fight. The speeder Windu took wasn't the only one on the ship. Pressing down hard on a button that protruded from the control panel, it let out a loud beep. Rising to her feet, she raced to the back of the ship and slammed the ramp's release. The door began lowering slowly to the ground. She bounced on her toes. The more time passed, the quicker her heart raced. 

As soon as physically possible, she raced down the access ramp. Long metal arms from the ship's belly had just finished depositing a speeder bike onto the rocky ground. Jumping onto its seat, she wasted no time engaging it and firing away from the ship. Wind whipped ferociously in her face. The thundering of the speeder’s engines drowned out all other noises. Glancing back, her heart jumped into her throat as she saw the other speeder bike was practically bashing her rear end. On top of it, Count Dooku wore a menacing scowl. Padmé broke out into a cold sweat. Of course it was Dooku. Why did it have to be Dooku?

The Count lifted a hand and rocks began to rain down on her violently. Padmé had to swerve sharply to avoid getting hit. A big plume of greying dust was churned up behind her, but it didn't deter the Count in the slightest. He was hot on her tail, firing all the objects he could at her. Gritting her teeth, she pressed on the breaks, causing her bike to rapidly slow. Dooku zipped ahead, leaving Padmé at his tail. She had to blink away the grit that flew into her eyes. The Sith began to break, but she accelerated and swerved her speeder, ramming it into his. 

The two vehicles automatically imploded with a deafening bang and a blinding flash. A shockwave sent her flying backwards off the bike. The world spun around her and she landed in a heap on the floor. Every joint in her body screeched. Ringing erupted in her ears and her eyes only saw white. 

Picking herself up to her knees, she winced as pain shot through her body. Blinking back the haze, she saw the two speeders were nothing more than a smouldering pile of junk atop a huge scorch mark on the ground. Chunks of metal were scattered all over the place. A noticeably large piece burned just beside her head. The stench of burning rubber filled her senses and brought tears to her eyes. Nearby, she saw Dooku standing tall and striding towards her. His crimson blade stood out against the grey, dusty ground. He lunged forwards, swinging hard.

Malice took control. In seconds she was on her feet, avoiding the swipe by the fabric on her skin. Pain shot through her as one of her arms dangled uselessly by her side. The Sith had seen snapshots of what was happening through Padmé's eyes whilst they were on the ship, but the stark transition to being outside and next to a crash site with a battered body was a bit disorienting. Glancing around, she did her best to absorb all the new information. "My master wants your head on the tip of my sabre," Dooku drawled as he approached. A grave scowl twisted his face.

Malice gritted her teeth and backed away from him. The ground crunched beneath her feet. Grabbing at her floppy arm with her good one, she roughly shoved it in towards her body. There was a pop and a stab of pain that stole her breath. Taking in deep breaths, she glanced down at her hands and tested it all her fingers. They worked fine. “That’s nothing new,” she snorted. “Tell me, has he got that ridiculous empire of his yet?”

Dooku sliced at her with his blade and Malice jumped up into the air, away from his attack. Behind her, she caught sight of a ship. No doubt the ship Padmé had just been on. If she could make it back there, perhaps she could take off and abandon this dust ball planet. No, there wasn't enough time. The reason Padmé herself hadn't taken off was because it simply wouldn't have happened quickly enough to escape. “You don’t know?” Dooku taunted, a smile tugging at his lips. “Let me tell you all about my master’s ascension to becoming the galaxies emperor.” Gritting her teeth, she lured Dooku back towards the ship. Perhaps they would be something there she could use to her him off her tail. “It’s quite a story.”


	6. Cliff Dive

Anakin was relieved to be out of the Junde Prison's gloom, but the surrounding landscape wasn't much better. They were walking along a precarious cliff edge. There was nothing but thick smog and clouds by its base. A rocky, grey landscape stretched as far as he could see, devoid of any landmarks. Even the sky above was ashen. The three liberated Jedi were led along the rocks by Windu. The dusty air tickled his already dry throat. Every muscle in his body was still stinging. A intense weariness was hazing his mind. He knew one thing for certain, Dooku most certainly did not give up easily. The feint scent of singed clothing was rising off him. The other liberated Jedi looked worse for wear. Obi-Wan was pale and sickly. Kit-Fisto was moving slow and rigidly. They might have a higher tolerance to pain, but that didn't mean they couldn't feel it.

Just in the distance, he could make out the shape of a small, cuboid ship. He was just close enough to see the harsh reflection of the sun off its glassy viewport. Taking in a deep breath, he could only hope Padmé had listened to Windu and remained safely inside the ship. When she'd touched down, he'd tried to warn her about Dooku but his mind had been hazy. Since then he hadn't felt anything from her. Not even after his force suppressing shackles had been removed. He was hoping he couldn’t sense her because she had fallen asleep or figured out his message and concealed her presence, but the weight on his stomach told him otherwise.

They drew closer to the ship and Anakin could just about make out some of the finer details on its nubby hull. Windu raised his arm to his mouth and pressed down on his communicator. "Mrs Amidala?" he spoke. There was no response. The hairs on the back of Anakin’s neck stood on end. "We are drawing close to your location now," he added. The communicator remained silent. Obi-Wan and Anakin traded a wide eyed glance. Panic rose steadily within him. "Mrs Amidala?" There was no response. 

Mace grumbled and dropped his arm back down to his side. Peering over his shoulder at Anakin, he narrowed his eyes. "You're the specialist, is the Sith free?" Mace snapped. Anakin's brows shot up, but neither of the other two Jedi seemed fazed. They stared at him blankly. Clenching his jaw, he closed his eyes over and dipped into the force. He carefully poked at his surroundings. The only light presences around were that of the Jedi. Sucking in a breath, he expanded his search.

What he felt made his breath catch in his throat. Malice was close by, her absolute darkness whipping out of control. Aggressively coiling around her was Dooku. His eyes snapped open. The three Jedi stared at him expectantly. "Malice is out and Dooku is with her," he growled, his body tensing. Fear bridled his senses. "I don't think it's on friendly terms."

Mace ran a hand down his face. "It never is with Sith," he grumbled. He was the only one of them with a lightsaber. They were not prepared for the battle ahead. "Even when they have joined forces."

"No, it is most definitely not friendly," Kit Fisto responded, pointing a finger ahead of them. Anakin followed his gesture. Just beyond, he could make out two human figures. One had a glowing crimson lightsaber, the other was nimbly avoiding all the sweeping strikes of the scarlet blade. The long cloak she wore twirled and twisted with her every movement. Anakin's heart leapt into his mouth. One wrong move from Malice and she would end up minced meat.

"I will handle Dooku," Mace turned to Anakin, "you work on retrieving Mrs Amidala." Next, he turned to the other two Jedi, "get the ship ready to go, it's a slow starter." All four Jedi broke out into a sprint towards the fight. Anakin was breathing hard. His eyes were solely focused on Malice. Within moments, they were upon the duelling Sith. Just as Obi-Wan and Fisto were about to board the ship, a blast of lightning shot out and caused it to implode. Anakin threw his hands over his eyes to protect from the blast. A wall of heat and noise slammed into him, knocking him to the side. A high pitched ringing erupted in his ears. 

Shaking away his disorientation, he glanced around. The stench of oil filled the air. The ship was nothing more than a smoking pile of rubble. Obi-Wan and Fisto were staring stonily at the ship's blackened remains. Windu had drawn his sabre and was holding the stern gaze of Count Dooku. The two Sith were a fighter plane away. Dooku was standing tall, his blade still humming and face warped into a grimace. Malice was crouched to the ground. Yellow eyes leered up at them. A long plat rested on her back. She was breathing hard, a slick sheen of sweat covering her skin. That relieved Anakin a little. If she was already worn out, she would be a lot easier to best. "Gentlemen, how lovely of you to join us," Dooku drawled, twirling his blade.

"We wouldn't miss out on this fight for the whole of Coruscant," Obi-Wan chirped sardonically.

"The planet you've already lost?" Malice purred, rising steadily to her feet. Anakin watched her closely. The skin tight, white clothes she wore hugged close to her body. She shot them a fanged grin. "Dooku told me you are nothing more than a ragged band of rebels now," she chuckled dryly. "Pathetic, really."

"We'll show you exactly what a ragged band of rebels can do," Mace snapped, lifting his blade and angling it towards Dooku. He advanced towards the Sith, his posture steady and loose. Dooku readied his own blade and turned to scowl at Malice.

"I'm proposing a team up to defeat a greater threat," Dooku spoke gruffly to his fellow Sith.

"Alright," Malice hummed. Dooku reached into his cloak and pulled out the gleaming barrel of a lightsaber. Throwing it to her, she caught with ease and ignited its sapphire blade the moment it hit her palms. Anakin's eyes narrowed. He knew that blade better than he knew the backs of his hands. It was his. "If they kill you, I'll laugh over your dead body," she snapped at the Count. Dooku let out a huff of air in response.

Mace lunged at Dooku and the pair twisted into a fierce whirlwind of furious strikes. Anakin dove towards Malice, striking out towards her. She easily dodged and swung her blade around towards his fist. He yanked it out of her path and evaded a few of her lightning fast swipes. Slowly, she began pushing him towards the cliff’s edge. His heart pounded in his chest. A few swings came a little too close to his face for his liking. Very quickly, he found himself breaking out into a sweat. The strikes she was making were wide and aimed towards his limbs. It seemed Padmé was right. Malice couldn't kill him. The battle between Dooku and Mace was getting further and further away. Obi-Wan and Fisto were dodging the occasion chunk of rubble that was thrown their way.

Anakin flipped out of the way of a particularly vicious lunge. Landing on his feet, he warily watched her advance. She shot him a fanged grin. The oily stench was weakening. The noises of clashing sabres faded. He glared angrily at the sabre in her hand. It made him sick to think someone so vile was wielding the weapon he had crafted so carefully. He trusted it to do his will just like he would trust his own arm. "Is this yours?" Malice taunted him, flaunting the weapon before his eyes. He gritted his teeth. A toothy smile warped her face. His scowl deepened. "Do you know how I can tell?" she asked, cocking a brow. He clenched his fists tightly. The expressiveness of his face had always been a downfall for him. Lifting a hand, he gestured to his face.

Malice let out a laugh. Raising the hilt, she ran her tongue along its shaft. Anakin's upper lip curled into a snarl. A cold shiver of disgust ran down his spine. Her laughter only grew louder. "Your face was a strong give away," she admitted, spinning the blade in her hands. His blood pressure was rising. "But I knew even before you started sulking," she goaded him. A grin still on her face, she began to circle him slowly. Those yellowed eyes chilled him to the bone. His brows drew closer together and he kept himself low in his stance. Every inch of him was ready to move at a moments notice, so he watched her closely and scanned her every move. Not even her tiniest of twitches got past him. "I knew, because Padmé has nothing but fondness for this weapon," she admitted, swirling the blade around her faster and faster. The hum grew steadily louder. Anakin clenched his teeth. Just how many of Padmé's attachments could she feel? The blade became nothing more than spinning circle of sapphire light. "It would be a terrible shame if it's the same weapon she comes to consciousness, holding over your dead body," her voice dipped into a grow and she lunged.

Anakin barely had any time to duck below a furious flurry of strikes. The blue blade whizzed past his face. He heard his hair sizzling at the proximity. At first he was confused about her sudden out burst. Why hadn't she been fighting like this earlier? Wouldn’t it have been more efficient? It was only when her pace began slowing that he understood. Even through her thick shields, he could feel the smog of fatigue in her mind. It seemed the limitations of her damaged body were beginning to catch up to her excess of movement. 

Malice only halted her attack when his ankles were dangling over the edge of the cliff. Peering behind him, he saw the steep drop. The jagged cliff's face descended into a pit of white fog. He couldn't even see the bottom. The heat of his lightsaber burned at his neck. Turning around slowly, he glared at her. The tip of the sapphire blade hovered beneath his chin. He lifted his hands in surrender. The Sith sent him a victorious smile. Anakin's body went tense. "You won't kill me," He leered down at her. She cocked a brow and leaned a little closer. "You can't."

"Oh really?" she hummed lowly, her eyes narrowed to slits.

"If you could, you would have done it on Florrum or the Jedi temple," he stated, fighting to keep his breath in control. A cold sweat broke out along his hairline. Malice's grip around his sabre tightened. Relief washed over him. "You can feel how deeply connected Padmé and I are, can't you?" he spoke slowly, his hands in tense surrender by his sides. The muscle in Malice's arms went taut. "That connection won't let you kill me."

"It's disgusting," Malice spat, her face twisting into a scowl. "Just how close are you two anyway?" she growled, her yellowed eyes glowing as she scanned over him. "Jedi aren't supposed to have relationships."

Anakin jutted his jaw to one side. It seemed Malice only knew what she did about Padmé's life by piecing together her attachments. From the corner of his eyes, he caught sight of something that made his blood run cold. Dooku had an arm wrung around Obi-Wan's neck, a crimson blade lingering by his face. Mace was forced into surrender, placing his weapon on the ground. Anakin's heart pounded. Dooku would force him to surrender next. If that happened, Malice could end up dead by the Count's blade or free to roam the galaxy. Either way, he might never see Padmé again. Fear tied knots in his throat. Glancing down at the Sith before him, he made a snappy decision. "Close enough that I’ve probably been in your body more times than you have," he spoke with a note of cocky urgency. Malice's face shifted into horror and disgust. Exactly what he was looking for. Her guard was shot. Moving quicker than a flash, he grabbed her wrists and tugged them both back over the cliff’s edge.

Malice let out a shout of surprise. The plummet flipped his stomach. The wind whipped violently around him, pushing his hair from his face and making his eyes water. The cliff retreated away from him at a rapid pace. Twisting around to face the ground, he kept his body flat to slow his terminal velocity. Malice was further below him. Having been caught off guard, it had taken her longer to assume a position that would stop her from falling so quickly. Watching her fall made his heart pound, but if she had one talent, it was surviving deadly drops. 

They crashed straight through the foggy layer. It was thin, but it left trails of moisture on his skin. Finally, he could see the ground below. It was grey and barren like above but significant dimmer. The clouds had blocked out nearly all of the sun's rays. Drawing on the force, he slowed his rapid decent. Malice landed in a graceful crouch just before him. By the time he reached the desolate, rocky ground, he had nearly slowed to a complete stop. The gravelly dirt crunched beneath his feet. The air was thick and grainy.

Malice wearily pushed herself to a stand. The blue lightsaber was still ignited. Anakin dusted himself off and cautiously approached her from behind. "Give up Malice," he spoke calmly. "Your body has reached its limit. Don't push it whilst you're still in recovery."

The Sith straightened out and glared back over her shoulder towards him. The darkside swirled around her, hazing his senses. "Mention our body one more time, and I'll cut out your tongue," she snarled. Anakin just managed to evade a few of her blows. The darkside stopped him from sensing the rock she fired at his head. He felt something hard connect with the side of his head in an explosion of pain. It knocked him flat onto his back. The world spun around him. Before he could collect himself, he felt the nipping sting of a lightsaber blade by his neck. Malice was leaning over him, her yellow eyes glared down. "It's over, Skywalker."


	7. Positive Transition

Anakin's head was pounding. The vast expanse of ashen wasteland stretched as far as his eyes could see. The rocky, jagged cliff face rose up into thick layer of grey cloud. Only the odd boulder acted as detail in the cracked landscape. The dusty air formed a powdery film on his throat, itching it immensely. The moistureless air dried out his eyes. He was on his knees, the ground crunching beneath him. His hands were tied to his ankles behind his back, so tightly that he'd lost all feeling in his fingertips. Malice was seated on a rock nearby. Her elbows leaned on her knees and her hands tinkered with a disc shaped communicator. With her jaw set, her complete focus was on the task at hand. His lightsaber was hidden from his view and clipped onto her tight clothing. Despite her diligently working away, he could see her eyes beginning to droop and her hands growing unsteady. Not ever her mental shields could hide the weariness that clouded around her. 

Yellow eyes flicked up to meet his. They glared at him angrily. "Would you stop staring," she growled at him. "You're making my skin crawl." Her nose crinkled in disgust.

"Not much else to look at out here," he grumbled, narrowing his eyes. Malice pinched at the bridge of her nose and stuck her tongue into her cheek. Anakin stilled slightly. Padmé pulled that expression whenever he was annoying her. With a sharp exhale, she returned to her work. Pulling out a red wire, she began stripping back it's rubber casing with the sharp point of a rock. "What exactly is it your planning?" he asked with a frown. Malice didn't turn away from the device, but she cocked a brow. "We both know you're running out of time."

"If Dooku was going to find us, it would have happened by now," she responded sharply. Pulling out a green wire she began stripping it as well.

"That's not what I meant," he stated, the corners of his lips turned down.

"Oh?" she hummed, still focused on her work.

Anakin narrowed his eyes. "You are getting overrun by your fatigue," he accused her. Her tinkering stopped for a moment, but she kept her eyes trained on the communicator. A little smile tugged at his face. "It won't be long until your body gives up and you collapse. When that happens, I'll get my weapon and find a way to bring Padmé back." Malice rolled her eyes. "I'm surprise you've lasted this long," he chucked humourlessly.

"You're a cocky one, aren't you," she sneered. A muscle in her neck tightened and she leered over at him. "I think you'll find I'm nothing like the little princess," she jutted a finger towards her temple. "The dark side will keep me going as long as I need to."

"The force can't fend off faults in your body forever," he assured her sternly, the smile widening on his face. Although patience wasn't his strong suit, he knew he wouldn't have to wait much longer for the Sith to reach a breaking point.

"I guess we are going to find out," she grunted and returned her attention to the device before her. Twisting the two stripped wires together, she tucked them back into the holoprojector. Sliding it's metallic casing back into place, she pressed down on the activation. It let out a loud beep. A grin twisted her features. Anakin's eyes narrowed. A hologram burst to life above the projector. Dooku's age cracked face had a gentle, blue glow as he glared at her. "Dooku, did you miss me?" she taunted him, lifting a cheeky brow.

Rising to her feet she sauntered towards Anakin, stoping to stand over him from behind. "Most certainly not," Dooku grumbled. Anakin had to twist around to stare up at her. She was holding the projection just in front of her face, wearing a tricking sweet smile. "Why have you contacted me?" he drawled, frowning deeply.

"I want to make a trade," she responded suspiciously simply. "One Jedi Knight for safe passage off this dustball." Anakin nearly scoffed. Did she really think the count would agree to a deal like that? For a Sith, she clearly didn't understand the concept of greed. No doubt Dooku would be scouring the planet for them as they spoke.

"You have Skywalker?" Dooku asked, doubt punctuating every word. Malice crouched down behind Anakin, draping one arm over his shoulder and using the other to lower the projection down in front of his face. Irritation exploded within him. A deep scowl was etched into his face. 

"I do indeed," she confirmed with a grin. Roughly grasping his jaw, she shook his head from side to side. With a snarl, he ripped his face from her clutches. Malice laughed over his shoulder, patting his cheek and rising to her feet. His chest began to tighten.

"A very tempting deal, my dear, but the Emperor wants you dead just as badly as him," Dooku responded flatly. Relief flooded into the Jedi's chest. Malice was rejected just as he thought she would be.

"I'm not stupid, Tyrannus," she snapped. Anakin turned his head up to stare at her. Malice's yellow eyes peered stonily at the hologram. "I know you’re trying to track my transmission as we speak, but I've already removed the locator," she goaded him. That explained why she had pulled apart the communicator before using it. "If you don't take my deal, I'll end the transmission now and you'll have neither of us." Dooku pressed his lips into a thin line, the wrinkles around his eyes deepened. Malice stroked a few fingers along her chin. "I can sweeten the deal," her voice came out with an unnerving bounce. "I will give you the location of the rebel base." Anakin's heart began racing. His breath was short. 

Dooku raised his brows. A wide smile split his thin lips. "You have yourself a deal," he chuckled dryly. 

"I'll send you my coordinates," she responded. The holo dissolved. Malice pressed a few more buttons on the device. It beeped once again. Her face fell flat and lines of weariness folded beneath her eyes. The projector shrunk to the size of a credit and she slotted it into a back pocket. As she wandered over to her rock, his mind began racing. Glaring down at the grey ground below him, he began to desperately hatch a plan. There wasn't time to wait for Malice's fatigue to catch up with her, he needed to bring Padmé back now. 

Closing his eyes over, he skirted around the edges of the sith's mind. Her shields were up. Even if he could get beyond them, he couldn't feel Padmé within her at all and he strongly doubted Malice would let him rifle through her mind to find her. Panic steadily began to fill him like molten magma. If that deal was seen through, all of the Jedi on Dagobah would be killed and Malice would tug Padmé off to some unknown corner or the galaxy.

Taking in deep breaths to steady his spinning mind, he tried to think around the issue. If Malice was pulled to control every time she was at risk of death, then maybe there was something that would pull Padmé to consciousness. Clenching his jaw tightly, he stared over at the Sith. She was sitting back on the rock, head in hands. "So, why exactly were you created?" Anakin asked, his voice steady and soft. Malice lifted her head to glower at him. "Are you just a glorified defence mechanism that pops up whenever Padmé is in trouble?"

"I am no defence mechanism. I get no choice of when I'm in control," Malice snapped, rising to her feet once more. "Believe me, I wouldn't defend the little queenie if my life wasn't tied to hers." Her admission prompted an idea within him. The darkside was all about strife, passion and pain. Thus Malice, the incarnation of the darkside, was thrust behind the wheel when Padmé was facing certain death. The lightside however, was all about love, compassion and serenity. It was very possible that Padmé would be pulled to the front of their mind if she experienced an act that was truly of the lightside. A plot hatched in his mind, but he would need to be careful. He would only get one shot and if it failed, it might finally give her the motivation to kill him. 

"Is that right?" Anakin laughed. Her features twisted in anger. "You're just a weapon. Even Sidious used you for your power." Malice jutted her jaw to one side and narrowed her eyes. Anger thrashed around her force presence like a tantruming child. Stalking closer she crouched down in front of him. His heart thundered in his chest. Perfect. She was falling right into his hands. All he needed was her to be a little closer.

"You know, Skywalker, I may be a weapon but I'm not brainless," Malice spat out his name like venom. It startled him to see Padmé speaking to him as though he were scum. It caused a tremble in his heart. Still, his face remained stony and impassive. "Every time you lock me away, I know it could very well be the last thing I ever see." A cold shock raced through him. "I also know that if I ever get to open my eyes again, I'm going to have to fight for my life or do someone else's bidding," she growled like an animal possessed. Looking at her closely, he recognises that rage. It was the same anger he felt when he was a slave on Tatooine. It was the pent up fury that accompanied having no control. A begrudging pity filled him. Still, he needed to keep going. She just needed a little push further.

"That's what you get for being evil," he jeered. Malice leaned closer. Her blackened fury writhed within her. Anakin knew what he said wasn't fair. She had no more choice being dark than Padmé had being light. The Sith stopped inches away from his face. His heart was hammering at his ribs. This was it. The moment of truth. All he needed to do now was catch her off guard.

Yellow eyes scanned his face. "What does Padmé even see in you?" she growled.

"My cunning," he grinned. Malice pulled her brows together, but before she could react he closed the distance between them and pressed his lips against hers. The Sith went ridged. Almost instantaneously, light burst into her mind. Relief blew over him. Pulling away from her, he stared intently at her face. Although her eyes were glassy, they were brown once more. A sight he was more than happy to see. Padmé began to sway unsteadily, an expression of confusion warping her face. Her eyes focused on him and her lips parted. 

"Ani?" she whispered. 

"I'm right here," he responded softly, a wide smile cutting his face. Padmé glanced around, lowering herself to sit in front of him. Uncertainty and fear shone in her eyes. "Hey, can you cut me loose," he nodded back over his shoulder towards his bindings. Padmé leaned around him to glance at the thick rope. Blinking, she gave him a small nod.

"Where is your lightsaber?" she asked with a strained grunt as she pushed herself shakily to her feet. The question startled him a little because he could see it clearly dangling from her hip.

"Your belt," he responded softly. Padmé frowned, but looked down at it none the less. Her breath audible faltered and her brows shot up.

"What happened whilst I was gone?" she mumbled, unclipping the lightsaber and shuffling behind him. It amused him how she held it with only the tips of her fingers. It was the way the younglings held their first practice hilt and a very stark difference to Malice's two handed grip.

"I'll tell you that, but we need to make a plan quickly," he urged her. There was a hiss, a buzz and a singeing heat by his hands. He held perfectly still. The ropes loosened and fell off. 

"What immanent danger are we in now?" she huffed. Anakin picked himself up from the ground. Blood rushed back to his hands and feet with a prickling vengeance. Turning to face her, she immediately handed the lightsaber hilt to him as though it was diseased. He returned its reassuring weight to his belt. Her eyes were drooping further than before and her skin had become washed out and pale. It hurt him to see her so exhausted, but he had to hold onto the hope she could remain strong until they liberated the other Jedi.

"Just the normal amount of life threatening doom," he chuckled, placing his hands on her sagging shoulders.


	8. Double Do

The speeder Anakin and Padmé sat on zipped across the lifeless landscape. Several well armed clones were positioned around them. The black silhouette of the prison was growing closer and closer. The sky was dusky and orange. Wind whipped aggressively at their faces, bringing tears to Anakin's eyes. The heat was draining into the ground, leaving an icy chill in the air. The deafening whoosh of the speeder rushed in his ears. It rocked and jittered as it powered over the desolate ground. His freshly cuffed hands rested in his lap. 

Turning to Padmé, he gave her a quick once over. She was seated next to him at the very back of the angular speeder. Their legs were pressed against one another. The white fluffy cloak she wore fell around her shoulders and upper body. Sitting up rigidly, he could see her half shut eyes peering out across the featureless landscape. He knew she was hanging onto her consciousness by a thread. Only a few times had she allowed herself to become so overwhelmed by her fatigue and that only happened when she had been on Dagobah. Until now, she'd been brilliantly managing her susceptibility to exhaustion. He feared what could happen if she kept on pushing. 

Sensing his concern, her presence sent out a powerful wave of serenity. It swaddled his mind in a calming light and steadied his emotions. Closing his eyes over, he basked in her warmth. It whispered gentle assurances in his ear. Tickles of relaxation caressed his head and neck. The light side flowed through him easier than water over a cliff’s edge. How she could settle his mind so easily, he didn't know, but it didn't stop him from enjoying such a sweet moment of peace. 

Anakin was so caught up in her presence, he was startled when the speeder ground to a halt. Padmé retreated from his mind and he instantly missed her light. The prison was casting a gloomy shadow over them. It towered high into the grey sky. They had stopped before the large ramp that spewed out from the hangar like a long metallic tongue. Dooku and several troopers were waiting by its wide base. From so far down, he could only just make out the blue lights of the hangar. The clones in the speeder began jumping out. The count approached with his hands clasped behind his back. A scowl downturned his features.

Padmé rose to her feet, kicking at his shoe. "Get up," she snapped. Anakin clenched his jaw and sent her the angriest glare he could muster. Feigning reluctance, he got to his feet and jumped over the edge of the speeder. He had to fight his habit of offering her a hand as she stepped down behind him. She was keeping her cloak wrapped tightly around her body and her defences defences around her mind. Not even the faintest glimmer of light seeped out from within her. Anger was etched into her features, concealing the weariness. 

"Malice," Dooku greeted her curtly, staring down his nose at them. "I'm impressed you managed to tame this one," he nodded to Anakin, causing rage to bubble within the Jedi. He wasn't a wild beast. He was a person. "He's renown for his difficultly." If the order found him impossible to manage, of course the Sith stood no chance. 

Padmé's lips twisted into an evil grin. "Once you take a Jedi's weapon away, they are practically babies," she chuckled dryly. Dooku hummed in agreement and nodded for a few clones to come over. They grabbed Anakin roughly and began dragging him towards the ramp. He ripped his arms from their grasps with a snarl but followed closely behind. The plan was succeeding so far. The cool metal of his lightsaber pressed against his forearm, concealed from sight in his sleeve. Once he made it to the cells he would just need to free the other Jedi and flee to where Padmé was with her transport.

"Speaking of lightsabers, would you care to return the one I leant you?" Dooku cocked a brow. Anakin couldn't help but tensing.

Padmé barked a laugh. "Do you really think I'd trust you enough to willingly hand over my one weapon?" she sneered. For a moment, she sounded eerily familiar to Malice. The hairs on the back of his neck stood on end. 

"Not when you don't have it in your possession in the first place," he grumbled. Anakin's heart leapt into his mouth. There was the sharp hiss of a lightsaber igniting and a tiny yelp from Padmé. Turning abruptly on his feet, he stared back. Dooku was standing behind Padmé, one arm wrapped around her neck, the other holding a crimson blade inches from her chest. 

Anakin whipped out his own lightsaber, pointing towards Dooku. "Let her go!" he roared. Padmé's terrified eyes landed on him, wrenching at his soul. Dooku sent him a taunting grin. Several blaster muzzles pressed against his back, making him still slightly.

"Malice is a true Sith, Skywalker. Which means her eyes are yellow," Dooku tutted. "This is Miss Amidala." He brought the lightsaber closer to her chest, making her squirm. Anakin gritted his teeth. The split between Malice and Padmé was something he hadn't know Dooku knew about. "Surrender your weapon." Taking deep inhale through his nose, he sheathed the blade and placed it slowly to the floor. A clone stooped down to pick it up and trotted over to Dooku, relinquishing it to him. They were prisoners once more.

*

Not much later, Anakin found himself in force suppressing bindings again. He was in a wide room. Five tall columns rose from the ground. Large torch cones lined the walls and fire burned within their open tops. Everything was illuminated by their orange glow. Narrow windows showed the pitch black night beyond and allowed a cold breeze to blow over them. The dusty, stone floor was crisscrossed with long, finger like shadows. The feint smell of metallic blood lingered in the air. Dooku's five prisoners were standing with their arms chained above their heads. On one side of Anakin, tied to the centre column, was Padmé. Her head was nestled into the crook of her arm and her back leaning against the stone pillar. A few loose strands of her hair fell before her eyes. Just beyond her was Mace Windu and Kit Fisto. On Anakin's other side, Obi-Wan was standing tall. With closed eyes and an expressionless face, Anakin knew he was deep in meditation. 

Internally Anakin was riddled with concern. Padmé had more than surpassed her breaking point, there seemed to be no way of escaping and they were lined up like cattle for a slaughter. Taking in deep breaths, he focused on calming his mind. The clearer his head was, the easier it would be to listen to the guidance of the force, and he really needed some. The sound of someone clearing their throat, dragged his attention to the two Jedi masters on the other side of Padmé. Mace Windu nodded down to Padmé and cocked a brow. "Padmé," Anakin whispered down to her. No reaction. She didn't even stir.

"She is asleep," Obi-Wan hummed, peeling open his eyes and glancing at the slumped over Senator. "Quite impressive in that position, really."

"I don't think she has much of a choice," Anakin remarked, although it was very strange to see someone sleeping standing up. Kit Fisto cocked his head to the side, his long tentacles swinging with the movement. "It's a side effect of the multiple organ failure she had," he explained, staring down at her dipped head. "She is very quick to exhaustion."

"Does it affect the Sith as well?" Mace asked, dark eyes levelled with Anakin's own.

"Yes, but Malice is better at managing it with the aid of the force," Anakin responded with a huff. Perhaps he could teach Padmé to use a similar technique but with the lightside. It could prove to be very beneficial for them both.

"Although that is most unfortunate for the Senator, I have a feeling it's going to become quite useful in our containment of Malice," Obi-Wan commented. Anakin had the same feeling as well. Malice could never fully evade them if she was run down and weary all the time. It would make her falter and trip up.

The door to the cell slid open with a whoosh. Dooku stalked in, his crimson cape bellowed out behind him and a cocky smirked warped his darkly shadowed face. Anakin kicked a foot at Padmé's, but she didn't shift in the slightest. His chest tightened. "Gentlemen, I hope you are finally prepared to give me some answers," he announced, his hands clasped behind his back. Anakin glared at the gleaming lightsaber hilts he wore on his belt like trophies. No doubt they would be used for some form of torture.

"I hope you are finally prepared to give up," Obi-Wan retorted, narrowing his eyes. Anakin's heart picked up pace. It had been easy to refuse Dooku before, but now that Padmé was strung up beside him, he wasn't so sure he could trust himself to stay quiet. Shifting on his feet, he reminded himself that he had to, because she would be furious if he revealed anything.

Dooku halted before Padmé, his brows tugged down into a frown. "Is she dead?" he asked, raising a brow. "Did one of you beat me to it?" Deep wrinkled formed on Anakin's nose and he curled his upper lip. The mere thought of the Jedi hurting her curdled his blood.

"Not quite," Windu responded blandly. "You left us so long she simply gave up waiting and went to sleep."

"I'm not sure wether to be offended or impressed," Dooku stared down at her, a wiry grin twisting his lips. Anakin broke out into a cold sweat. Lifting a hand, pale lightning crackled between his knobbly fingers. "But I think it's time she woke up." Before Anakin could protest, the Sith shot his lightning towards her. Padmé's whole body jolted and a shout of pain escaped her lips. Curling his fingers tightly into his palms, Anakin glared at the floor and tried to drown out the noise of her cries. He couldn’t show attachment. Dooku would only use against him and hurt her more.

The crackling of the lightening came to a stop. Anakin lifted his head back up. Dooku was glancing down at her with a bland expression of disinterest. Padmé's head was still hung and her chest heaving. The loud whooshing of her breath morphed into a gargled cackle. They all went still. Dooku narrowed his eyes. "Is something funny, Miss Amidala?" He bit.

Padmé straightened up slowly and began lifting her head. "I'm not an Amidala," she growled, two yellow eyes shone in the room’s dim lighting. Anakin wasn't sure wether or not to be relieved or horrified. It brought him peace of mind to know it wasn't going to be Padmé suffering, but he didn't know what Malice could reveal to the other Sith in an attempt to break free.

"Malice, how lovely of you to join us," Obi-Wan chirped. Glowing irises glared over at him. "It's been a while since we were last imprisoned together." Malice rolled her eyes and turned back to Dooku.

"Dooku darling, your lighting is pathetic," she chuffed a laugh, leaning back against her column. 

"Well I was only trying to wake you up," Dooku grumbled.

"It felt more like static shock than the power of a supposed sith," Malice sent him a fanged grin. Doolu's jaw tightened slightly. Anakin lifted his brows. What was she doing? Why was she trying to aggravate the very man that could end her life with a flick of his fingers? From the perplexed look on the other Jedis' faces, he knew they were thinking the same thing.

"Then perhaps I should give you a real taste," Dooku lifted his hands and shot a bolt at her. Malice lurched forwards upon impact with a grunt. The veins in her neck bulged and her hands grasped tightly at the chains above her head. It pained Anakin to watch because he could still see Padmé so clearly. A few moments later, and the count called off his attack. Malice let out another loud laugh.

"That one woke me up a little," she giggled, bouncing from foot to foot. Dooku clenched his jaw tightly. Malice was up to something, that much Anakin knew. Wether it was tricking the Sith into freeing her or purposefully getting herself killed, he had no idea. It was unnerving him.

"I understand why my master despises you so much," Dooku frowned down at her. "You're even more testy than the Kenobi-Skywalker duo."

"Let's not be rash now," Obi-Wan protested.

"Come on Dooku," Malice spoke in a whiny beg. A glimmer of sadistic playfulness twinkled in her eyes. Anakin's stomach went taught with queasiness. His face screwed up in disgust. Even Mace looked a little revolted. "If you actually want to hurt me, you're going to have to make contact," she taunted him with a grin. 

"That would kill you, and you are more valuable to me alive," he snapped, his upper lip curling.

"It won't kill me," Malice responded sharply. "No lightning as miserable as yours could even leave a scratch," she let out a humourless laugh. Her eyes were deranged and wild like a madman seeing the Coruscant depths for the first time. Dooku took in a sharp breath, his eyes narrowing to slits. "How could you even call yourself a Sith Lord with such a depressing arsenal of force powers?" she goaded him. Dooku's jaw jutted forwards. 

"Are you insane?" Windu snapped at her. Anakin's heart leapt into his mouth. She was going to get herself and Padmé killed. 

"Sidious could summon a stronger blast by sneezing," she sneered. That was the final straw. Dooku lurched forwards, roughly grabbing her jaw and slamming her into her column. Lightning violently erupted from his finger tips and coursed through her whole body. Her body seized and a scream tore through the air. The chains that bound her wrists became red hot and smouldered against her skin. Anakin grimaced. Malice lifted her feet and rammed them into his hips, knocking him back a few steps. Her legs immediately snapped back down to the ground. A scowl twisted Dooku's features. Once more a laugh left her lips, but it was pained and wheezy. A slick sheen of sweat coated her skin and her face was blushed. A bright red hand print was wrapped around her jaw.

"You should have died from a hit like that," Dooku hissed, eyeing her warily.

"Didn't your master tell you?" Malice tilted her head and put on a over dramatic expression of horror. "I'm highly resistant to force lighting." A mad laugh escaped her still smoking body. "Now, now. A lack of communication can be deadly," she scolded him in near hysterics. Anakin's face twisted with disgust. If she was the purest form of the darkside, no wonder all the Sith were so twisted.

"All that, to make Dooku look a little foolish," Master Fisto commented, his voice hitching. "It hardly seems worth it."

"Maybe not for you," Malice huffed, turning to face the Jedi, "but it's given me a great amount of pleasure." A creepy smile still pulled her lips taught. Her body was slightly slumped, her legs pressed against the column.

"I'm sure my master will know your weakness," Dooku hissed, stepping back towards the door. "We'll see if your still laughing when I exploit it." In a twirl of maroon fabric, he exited the room.

The moment the door clicked shut, Malice began shifting. Moving her feet away from the podium, a silvery lightsaber handle was revealed beneath her feet. Not just any lightsaber either. It was one he knew inside and out. He had built it from scratch, after all. "You deceptive little snake," Windu commented. Malice began manipulating the handle with her feet. Anakin's brows shot up. When had she stolen that? The kick. It was when she kicked him. All the taunting had been to lure him close enough to lift the lightsaber. The very same thing he had done to her earlier that day.

Anakin lifted his head, sucking in a breath to call for the guards. If she escaped now, he might never catch up. "Don't even think about it," she snapped, glaring at him in warning. With a flick of her heels, she sent the handle flying up into the air. It landed easily in his palm. Anakin's brows shot up. Malice all but collapsed back against her column, her eyes beginning to droop.

Igniting the blade, he cut himself loose in a blinding blur of blue light. His arms dropped down, leaving the chains swaying in the air. It was relieving to feel the familiar weight of his lightsaber in his hand once again. "Changing sides, are we?" Obi-Wan asked Malice. The Sith glared at him from beneath half lidded eyes, not dignifying his comment with a response. Anakin easily cut through Kenobi's chains. It seemed Malice knew that even if she freed herself and left them behind, she would never be able to escape without collapsing. It gave him a little satisfaction to know her pride must be stinging.

"You had him right where you wanted him," Kit commented sourly, his thick accent bouncing around the room. Obi-Wan stepped away from the column, rubbing at his wrists.

"You jedi really can be dim," Malice chuckled, leaning her head into her arm. The words she spoke were beginning to slur and jumble. "I'm a Sith, not a masochist." Anakin cut down the two remaining Jedi masters. They immediately backed away from their bindings.

"I didn't realise they weren't interchangeable," Obi-Wan quipped. He only got a grunt in response. Malice's features had fallen to neutrality. The Jedi masters congregated by her podium.

Anakin moved to cut her down, but a comment from Mace made him halt. "Shouldn't you switch her back to harmless Padmé before you free the very dangerous Sith?" Anakin pressed his lips into a thin line, but made no comment.

"I don't think she is much threat any longer," Kit Fisto defended him.

Placing two human fingers on her temples, he closed his eyes over and submersed himself in the steady flow of the force. Malice's skin was boiling hot beneath his finger tips and she was completely still. He could feel the thick shields that wrapped around her dark mind. A little uncertainty rose within him. Kissing her again would bring Padmé back, but he could not do that with the other Jedi watching his every move. He also couldn't dive into Malice's mind and pull out the light because of her mental shields. Gritting his teeth, he spent a few moments debating wether or not getting expelled from the order was worth banishing Malice to the back of her mind. Delicately placing a little weight on her mind, he nearly let out a yelp of surprise when she lifted her walls just enough for him to slide into her dark, revolting presence. "I don't want to deal with you blithering idiots anymore," Malice's voice drifted through his mind in explanation. It didn't take him long to locate the little orb of brilliance that was his wife. Reaching out to her, he felt her reaching back. They clicked perfectly together and he dragged her to the front of her mind.

Pulling himself out of the force, he lifted his fingers from her temple and peeled his eyes open. Padmé was still in the same position, but he could feel her white light sending out pulses of warmth. A small smile curved his lips. Twirling his blade, he cut straight through her chain. She sank quickly to the floor, her head drooping forwards and her back leaning against the column. Anakin clenched his jaw. Bright red rings were burned into her wrists. "That's one bomb defused," Mace hummed turning to the cell doors. "I don't think it's long until we are going to be facing another." A dark, stormy presence was thundering towards them.

"We have the element of surprise," Kit Fisto sent his fellow masters a wide, fanged smile. Wordlessly, he nodded to the walls on either side of the doorway. Anakin stooped down and scooped Padmé into his arms. He shuffled over the floor, placing her in the corner of the room that was out of sight from the doorway. All of the Jedi masters had pressed themselves along the same wall as the doorway. Anakin joined them, making himself closest to the door of them all. His heart began pounding ferociously but he pushed all the troublesome thoughts from his mind and let the light wash through him. 

The door whooshed open and a blackened, furious presence spilled in. Dooku took several steps through the door before halting, but it was too late. Anakin grabbed him from behind, raising the blue blade to the sith's neck. The count went ridged. Obi-Wan used the force to liberate their lightsabers from Dooku's belt, leaving the older man weaponless. "It's over Dooku," Anakin hissed in his ear.

"It would seem so," the Sith snarled in response.


	9. Firefly

Anakin was pulled from a deep slumber when he heard someone calling his name. Blinking his eyes open, he unsteadily pushed himself to sit up in his hammock. The humid, Dagobah air curled around his face. In the pitch black he had to strain to make out the dusky shapes of the tall trees and hanging hammocks. Gentle snores and chirping bugs filled the night. The smell of earthen dampness washed his senses. Rubbing at his eyes, he peered around but no one was in sight. A frown etched into his face. "Skywalker," a voice whispered urgently. A voice he knew well. He leaned over the edge of the hammock, only to see a dark silhouette staring up at him from the ground.

"Is everything alright, Master Yoda?" he asked quietly, swinging his legs over the edge of his hanging bed and carefully lowering himself down to the soft floor.

"Gone, Mrs Amidala is," Yoda responded calmly.

The spike of fear that rushed through him chased any sleepiness straight from his body. "Gone? What do you mean gone?" he whispered, his voice picking up a tone of urgency.

"No longer in her hammock," Yoda responded and Anakin could just about see him nodding his head. "Disappeared into the forest." Running a hand down his face, Anakin let out a huff of air. "Find her, can you?" he asked. Anakin didn't need to close his eyes over because of the suffocating darkness. Opening his mind, he felt the light side flowing through him like a river. It was easy for him to pinpoint her brilliance. A blinding white spot not too far away. He thought it was the same place he had found her the last time she disappeared in the night. Her force presence felt mildly nervous and strung out, but it was more or less relaxed. He could feel that she was still submersed deep into slumber.

"I've found her," he told the master, stretching his arms above his head. His shoulders popped.

"Then follow her, we will," Yoda spoke. With a nod, Anakin began stalking into the forest. It wasn't long until the swinging hammocks and soft snores were just a hazy memory. The only noise that accompanied them was the whooping bellows of a distant creature and the high pitched medley of creaking insects. His eyes slowly grew more accustomed to the darkness, allowing him to pick out distinctive roots in the ground and overhanging branches. Not that he needed to see them. The force guided him through the forest with tender ease. "Most impressive, your connection to Miss Amidala is," Yoda hummed.

Anakin stiffened slightly, but kept his pace steady. "I suppose it is quite strong," he responded gruffly scratching at his arm with one head and staring into the depths of the forest. Cold sweat beaded his brow.

"And also very useful, indeed," Yoda remarked, his walking stick tapping on the ground softly. Anakin rolled his shoulders. The little green master was no doubt referring to the containment of Malice. "Although, approve of your relationship, I do not. See that it must have been the will of the force, I do now." Anakin's mouth fell open. Lifting a hand, he kneaded at one of his shoulders. The sweating intensified. Unsure of what to say, he remained silent.

They found Padmé in the same place he had the last time. She stood at the edge of the swamp, her head was cranked up to look at the pale moon through the large gap in the canopy. The water before her glistened, perfectly reflecting the thousands of glittering stars in the night sky with crisp precision. The huge trees towered all around her. Her shoulders drooped and her arms hung limply by her sides. 

Anakin observed her from the treeline, Yoda standing by his feet. "This is where she was the last time I found her," he mumbled to the Jedi master. Stepping forwards, he moved to pull her from her sleep but a tiny hand on his shin caught his attention and forced him to halt. He peered curiously down at Yoda's hazel eyes.

"If reoccurring, this is, beneficial, it would be, to learn its purpose," Yoda explained calmly, staring out at Padmé. "Only by observing, we can do that."

"Of course, master," Anakin hummed, leaning against a thick tree trunk. Although part of him thought she was simply sleep walking, the rest of him was curious to know if something larger was at play. Time ticked by slowly, but they didn't have to wait long until something in the force shifted. Amongst the suffocating strength of the darkside on Dagobah, a little light burst to life. Hundreds of tiny, little specks began to glow golden and swirl around her. Anakin stood up straight, his brows lifting. The little lights looked like hundreds of tiny, luminescent bugs that danced around her. A smile curved her lips and her glassy eyes crinkled. "What the..." he murmured.

"Curious, indeed," Yoda hummed. He was scratching away at his chin with his talon like claws. Anakin raised his eyebrows. "Seen this before, I have," he explained, still staring at Padmé. "Lead me to Dagobah, the spirit of Qui-Gon Jinn did, many years ago." Anakin's mouth fell open. Qui-Gon? That was impossible. He had met his end when Anakin was still a child. "He appeared as a light, just like that," Yoda pointed a gnarled finger towards the glowing orbs that danced around her like a receding wave against a beach. 

"You think Qui-Gon is talking to her?" Anakin scoffed.

"Certain of that, I am not," Yoda peered up at him, pressing his lips into a thin line. "Only one thing, that I know for sure. Speaking to her, the force is." As he said that, the golden lights dimmed and faded away. Padmé fell to her knees with a squelch, sinking down into the thick mud. Her eyes blinked slowly and her felt her mind raising to wakefulness. The corners of her lips tugged down and her chin began to wobble. Quickly moving to her side, he knew this was where he came in.

*

Padmé was standing the the black void once more. Her long senatorial dress swished around her ankles. Every breath and movement echoed louder than the original sound. Everywhere she looked, there was nothing but blackness. Sucking in a deep breath she wrapped her arms around herself. The metal of her head piece weighed down heavily on her head. A cold feeling washed over her from behind. Turning around, she saw two yellow eyes leering at her. Malice was in a black, hooded cloak. Her gaunt, sunken features were the only part of her pale skin showing. Dark circles rung her eyes. Her to lip curled into a snarl, revealing dangerously pointed canines. "Malice," Padmé breathed out.

"You don't sound happy to see me," the Sith feigned upset, placing a skeletal hand over her heart. 

"You didn't leave the best impression the last time we met," Padmé snorted, rolling her eyes. The Sith sent her a fanged grin. "As I recall, you threatened to destroy the Jedi and kill Anakin."

"Yes, that foul boyfriend of yours," the sith's face twisted in disgust.

"The way I heard it, he played you like a fidlo," Padmé laughed, picturing Anakin having to anger the Sith so much that she came close enough to kiss. It was quite a comical thought.

"Don't forget, I was the one that got those stupid Jedi out of their little mess with Dooku in the first place!" Malice protested, throwing her thin arms into the air. Although Padmé had been asleep for the majority of the ride back to Junde, the short snippets she was awake were filled with the memory of Dooku's scowling face as he was chained in the corner of the ship.

"Am I supposed to suspect you did that out of the kindness of your heart?" Padmé retorted, rolling her eyes and cocking a hip to one side.

"Obviously not," Malice told her dryly. Pale hands clenched into fists. "I knew they wouldn't leave you behind, and I was hardly grasping onto the last few straws of energy we had left in our body." She began to stalk in circles around Padmé. "You know it wouldn't kill you to do some of the heavy lifting every once in a while," she jabbed.

Padmé tracked the Sith with her eyes. "I'm grateful you've kept me alive, but if it were up to me you would never see the light of day again," she snapped. Malice halted in her tracks, bearing her teeth like a rabid animal.

"Then stop almost dying," she hissed, narrowing her eyes. "Isn't that the reason we can't do anything without passing out? One of our close to death experiences."

"You don't know?" Padmé asked, lifting her brows. The Sith's jaw clenched. "I went into multiple organ failure because the doctor in charge of my care whilst I was in the bacta tank was poisoning us." Malice let out a low growl. "It's going to take a long time until either of us can do much without getting tired out."

"Another failure of the Jedi," Malice let out a humourless laugh and turned her body to face Padmé. "Hardly surprising."

"They did their best," she argued, crossing her arms over her chest. Malice rolled her eyes and tutted. "Is there a reason you brought us here?" Padmé snapped, pressing her lips into a thin line. "Aside from taunting me, of course."

"Don't be so full of yourself," Malice took a threatening step forwards, but Padmé didn't flinch. Instead, a little frown puckered her brows. "I don't want anything to do with you any more than you do me," she growled, aggressively slashing at the air. "Those idiots that removed the wall in your mind have no idea what they've done!" she shouted, thick veins bulging in her neck.

"What?" Padmé muttered, her voice hitching.

"That wall was there to keep us apart," Malice gestured frantically between the two of them. "Without it, we've slowly begun to merge back into one person." Padmé shook her head, silence biting her tongue. "These little meetings must be our minds giving away information."

"No," Padmé shook her head again with more determination. "That can't happen, I won't let it happen."

"You don't have a choice," Malice sneered. "It's too late now." Horror filled Padmé like iced water. There was no way she could allow herself to be polluted with Sith evil. The void began to brighten and dissolve around them. Malice lifted her head and glanced around. "Looks like our time is up for today," she commented. Flicking glowing eyes back to Padmé, she sent her a wry grin. "Wakey, wakey partner."

Padmé was thrust back into her body with a jolt. Electrifying horror still pulsed through her veins. She was kneeling in something cold a mushy. An expanse of glittering water was spread out before her and a moon shone brightly in the night sky. Blinking slowly, she felt anguish rise within her. A warm hand landed on her shoulder, startling her. Lifting her head, she saw Anakin leaning over her with a concerned gaze. Yoda was by his side, a smile warming his age cracked features. They were in the same spot she had woken up in the last time she was on Dagobah. Turning away from them, she peered down at her shifting reflection in the water before her. For only a moment, she could have sworn her eyes were glowing yellow. "Padmé?" Anakin crouched down beside her.

"Do you know what that wall around my mind was for?" she asked the pair of Jedi, her voice shaking. They traded a passive stare. Yoda shook his head slowly. Padmé let out a whimper and buried her head into her hands. She could feel concern rolling off the Jedi in waves.

"What's wrong?" Anakin asked, his voice mellow and soft. Heat was pooling in her eyes. It took a few steady breaths and painfully long moments to calm down enough to process the information herself.

"The wall kept Malice and I separated," Padmé's voice quivered. Lifting her head from her hands to stare at them. The tears made her vision waver and haze, but she could see their deep frowns. "Now that it's gone, we are slowly merging into one again." Anakin's brows shot up, his mouth fell open. Blinking back tears, she sucked in a deep breath of the warm, humid air.

"We won't let that happen," Anakin blurted, shaking his head. "There must be a way to stop it. Another wall or something."

"Before a rash decision, we make," Yoda interjected, lifting a clawed hand, "know why she was split, we must." Anakin looked as though he was going to object, but the old master spoke first. "Otherwise, make it worse, we might. Just like the first time with removing the wall, we did." Padmé nodded slowly. To rush into a decision might only seal her fate. Luckily, it seemed like she was going to have plenty of opportunity to ask Malice the truth of her past. Wether or not she cooperated was a very different story.


	10. Kamino Acid

Anakin kept his hood tugged low as he stepped into the dim bar. It was small and compact, filled with round tables that had a variety of species dotted around them. The walls were lined with tall booths that concealed their occupants. A wide bar sat at the opposite side of the room. It was illuminated with a vibrant blue light. The barman was using all twelve of his tentacled arms to wash, dry and fill crystalline cups. The stench of alcohol burned in his nose. A dull chatter buzzed in the air. His clothes were sodden and wet. Rain lashed against the wide windows that peered out on a dark, grey sky. All around him, the force was mellow and placid like an ocean's surface on a sunny day. 

Keeping his head down, he plunged into the depths of the room. A few of the occupants stared up towards him, but he payed them no heed. Striding to the booth in the furthest corner of the room, he perched down on its padded seat. He was on the opposite side of a pale Kaminoan with an impossibly long, thin neck that was flicking through a datapad. Huge, orb like eyes narrowed at him instantly. "Can I help you?" the Kaminoan asked, its voice airy and soft. A huge golden ring looped through its nose and glittered blue in the lighting. It placed the datapad down on the table that separated them.

"Doctor Ra-Dan?" Anakin asked. The Kaminoans eyes widened in alarm, he swung his head around and scanned their surroundings. The Jedi flicked back his wet hood. "I'm not an imperial," he assured the doctor firmly. Ra-Dan lowered his head in line with Anakin's, his blue speckled irises glinting.

"Then what do you want from me?" Ra-Dan asked, his forehead crinkling. Anakin tried not to grimace at the doctor's proximity and swallowed his queasiness. This was, after all, one of the Kamonians that heartlessly removed the clones’ free will and stuffed a control chip in their brains.

"To propose a deal," he replied sharply, leaning down on the hard table between them. The doctor cocked his head in interest, clasping his hands together. "You're being hunted by the Empire," Anakin stated and Ra-Dan's top lip curled. "We can offer you sanctuary if you agree to help us liberate the clones."

The doctor blinked his large eyes. "You have a deal," he responded. Anakin's brows shot up. That was a lot easier than he thought it would be. "I deeply regret what became of the clone army," Ra-Dan explained, his thin lips pressing together. "It's only right I help them find their freedom."

*

Anakin blew out a long breath as the ship's ramp descended down into the soft mud below. A rush of hot, humid air blew through the gap. It tasted of earthen dampness. Ra-Dan stood tall beside Anakin, ducking his head down to avoid brushing the roof. The pair walked down the ramp, the Jedi's long robes swayed around his feet. They stepped down onto the mushy ground. Obi-Wan and Mace Windu were there to meet them. Greenery bore down on them from every direction. It dominated the smallest of bushes to the most tightly wound of vines. A basey whoop echoed through the trees and the birds chirped and squawked. "Doctor Ra-Dan, we are glad you took us up on our offer," Mace Windu nodded in greeting.

The giant Kaminoan towered over them all. He craned his head around to stare with wide eyes at the hundreds of trees and vibrant plantlife. "I'm glad to be of service," the doctor hummed. There were lots of ships poking out from the shrubbery. Clones and Jedi alike will milling amongst them.

"I will take you to our head quarters now," Mace Windu nodded back through the trees. Turning to Anakin, he added, "you are with Kenobi."

Anakin turned to Obi-Wan, who sent him a grave nod. Together, they departed into the trees weaving across the mucky ground. Master and apprentice fell into step. "Where are we headed?" Anakin asked, staring intently at the other Jedi.

"A small cave just beyond the sleeping sector," Obi-Wan informed him. His face was slightly downturned, a wrinkle forming between his sandy brows. Anakin reared back slightly, stepping over a fallen log. What could be so interesting that they literally dragged him from his ship the moment it landed.

"Is there something in the cave I should know about," Anakin pressed, cocking a brow.

"Yes and no," Obi-Wan responded softly. "It's Padmé," he sighed. Anakin's brows shot up and his heart skipped a beat. Before he plunged into asking questions, he took a short scan of the force. He could feel her brilliant light not too far ahead, but it was dull with dormancy and smeared with darkness. The same way she felt whenever she went missing in the middle of the night. Pressing his lips into a thin line, he glanced over at Obi-Wan expectantly. "We found her doing something... rather unusual... this morning..." his blue eyes crinkled with concern. "As of yet, she hasn't stopped."

Through the thick trees, a large rocky cliff face became visible. The had dark gouges running the length of it and ridiculously long cracks that webbed all across its mossy surface. "Is she alright?" Anakin asked, his brows creasing.

"As far as we can tell," Obi-Wan responded, uncertainty lingering in his voice. The cliff face was drawing closer and closer. A tight sensation crept over Anakin's chest and he curled his fingers into his palms. It deeply concerned him, the thought that Malice and Padmé might merge. If that did happen, what side would be more dominant? Would the resulting person be more like a Sith or more like a senator? Would she simply excel at both? His heart squeezed. If they merged, would she love him anymore? Would she even want anything to do with him? His breath hitched at the thought.

Anakin was pulled from his musings when they arrived at the base of the cliff. It's uneven surface stretched up high into the green sky. There was a little crevices of space the width of a fighter ship that was carved into the cliff’s base. Jagged stalactites and looping vines dangled down in front of it. Within its darkened depths, he could see Padmé staring blankly at a wall. Her long hair was slicked back into a tight bun. The white of her tight clothing stuck out against the blackened, grimy rock. Yoda was seated on one of the many boulders dotted about the floor, just behind her. "Has there been any change?" Obi-Wan called to the grandmaster as they approached.

"Writing, she has stopped," Yoda hummed, pointing a gnarled finger towards her. Writing? Anakin approached her slowly from behind. Her head was hung forwards, her arms limp by her sides. A sharp rock was clutched loosely in one hand. His breath caught in his throat. On the cave wall before her was screeds and screeds of crude, jagged lettering carved through the moss and into the very stone. To him, it was completely undecipherable. 

"What language is that?" Anakin asked, his mouth falling open. He glanced back at Kenobi and Yoda with wide eyes.

"Know, I do not," Yoda hummed, lifting a hand to scratch at his chin. His hazel eyes scanned the wall curiously. If even Yoda didn't know, then perhaps it wasn't a language at all. Was she loosing her mind and squiggling across the walls as a desperate plea for help?

Blowing out a puff of air, Anakin stepped in front of her and placed his hands on her shoulders. The two master Jedi watched him intently. "Padmé," he spoke softly, shaking her shoulders. The rock she held clattered to the floor. Before he could react, her hands shot up and gripped his wrists into a deadly tight hold. He let out a wheeze as her presence began bleeding the dark side. "Not Padmé," he corrected himself, voice hitching. Obi-Wan stepped forwards, hand hovering over his lightsaber. Yoda's eyes narrowed to tiny slits. 

Malice lifted her head slowly, yellow eyes burned holes into his skull. "Skywalker," she hissed. Throwing his hands away from herself, she craned her head around at their surroundings. Her nose crinkled with disgust upon seeing the two Jedi masters behind her. "What is this?" she grumbled, angling her body so that all of the Jedi were in her vision. "Have you finally decided to kill me, or am I here just for giggles?"

"Why don't you tell us," Obi-Wan hummed, nodding to the wall of writing. "We found your body here writing that on the walls." Malice quickly scanned her eyes over the text, pulling her brows into a frown.

"Know, what language that is, do you?" Yoda hummed, jumping down from the boulder and waddling towards her.

A fanged smile warped her face. "You don't?" she taunted them. Although none of them responded, their faces hardened and expressions went cold. Malice let out a harsh laugh. "You jedi call yourself sith slayers and yet you don't even know our language," she tutted, shaking her head.

"If that's the Sith language, Padmé won't understand it. So, if neither of you wrote that, who did?" Anakin snapped, pointing a finger towards the wall.

Malice stroked at her chin and jutted a hip to one side. Her eyes glazed over in thought. The two Jedi masters stood by Anakin's side, carefully observing her. "The little princess and I were just in communication," she sighed, unfocused eyes narrowing. "Perhaps the left overs of our combined consciousness."

"Say, what does it?" Yoda asked, tilting his head towards the wall. Malice glanced up at it, her eyes running along the letters and text. The further she read, the wider her eyes grew. Deep wrinkles formed over the bridge of her nose and a low growl rumbled in her chest. Anakin's heart picked up pace and he kept his arms tense by his sides. Whatever the text was, it was clear Malice wasn't fond. Her hands clenched into tight fists and her breaths became heavy and rushed. She lifted a hand and the entire wall fractured. Huge cracks spidered across its surface with a loud crunch. 

"Is this a joke?" Malice turned back to them, bearing her teeth. "Could the old fool not bear to face me in person?" she growled, stepping towards them. "Did he set you up to this? Is this some sort of sick punishment?" The whole cave creaked and groaned. The cracks grew longer and wider. Anakin shifted on his feet, glancing at the sharp, rocky spikes that hung like a guillotine above them.

"What old fool?" Obi-Wan asked, raising his arms in defence. "What are you talking about?"

A jagged spike fell from the ceiling, on route to impale Malice. Anakin's heart leapt into his mouth and he moved to push her out the way. There was no need. With a flick of her hand, she sent it crashing into the damaged wall and shattering into thousands of tiny pieces with a loud bang. Heavy rocks began falling from the ceiling. "Qui-Gon Jinn," she snarled, spitting the name out like it burned her very tongue.

Anakin and Obi-Wan traded a wide eyed looked. A few more rocky spikes began to fall and crash into the ground, sending plumes of dust and shards of sediment spewing into the air. They needed to move. All three Jedi backed out of the cave slowly, avoiding the downpour of deadly spikes. The Sith watched them with seething, yellow eyes. "Malice," Anakin yelled, reaching out a hand and beckoning her out of the cave. "Come. We will tell you whatever you want to know about Qui-Gon, but you need to be alive." Clenching her teeth, she followed them and batted away any deadly projectiles.

The three Jedi manoeuvred a safe distance into the jungle, Malice stalking a little ways behind them. The whole cave came crumbling down with a huge boom that ricocheted throughout the whole forest. A powerful wave of dust blew past them, whipping their clothes aggressively against their bodies. Anakin threw his hands over his face to protect from the peppering of grit. He coughed on the air's murkiness.

The noise faded and the plumes of dirty air began to settle. Anakin dropped his arms back to his side. Green plant life swayed around them with the after shock. The three Jedi were clustered together, swiping the muck from their faces.   
Malice stood as fr away from them as she could, arms crossed over her chest and leaning against a thick tree trunk. "Did you say that you thought Qui-Gon set us up to this?" Obi-Wan asked, dusting off his clothes and sleeking back his hair. 

"At least your ears work," she snapped.

"First of all, you are the one that carved the text into the wall," Anakin protested, shaking himself off with a spray of dust. "Second, Qui-Gon couldn't have set us up to it because he is dead." A heavy beat of silence followed. Yoda had perched on a low hanging branch, watching her closely.

Malice's dirt streaked face pulled into a confused frown and she pushed herself to stand. "Dead?" she muttered, eyes glazing over slightly. She shook her as though she was trying to clear her mind of thought. "When? How?" she demanded, taking a half step towards them.

"The siege of Naboo in a duel with Darth Maul," Obi-Wan let out a weary sigh and Anakin could feel his former master's pain ripple through the force.

Malice's eyes dropped down to the floor. After another moment of silence, she let out a bark of laughter. "I always knew I loved that crazy Zabrak for a reason," she chuckled, planting a hand on her hip. "I hope it was nice and slow," she spoke lowly. Obi-Wan tensed, but Anakin saw the bitter glimmer of disappointment that shone in her eyes. For all her talk, it seemed she really was lying this time. Malice's yellow eyes ran up and down Obi-Wan's ridged form. "Oh, are you a fan of Qui-Gon, Kenobi?"

"He was my master," Obi-Wan responded, folding his arms into his sleeves.

"That explains a lot," she hummed, her face twisting as though there was a bad taste in her mouth. She perched on the edge of a tall rock, her back straight and her legs crossed. It was the same perfect posture Anakin had seen Padmé use in the senate many times before. She did it when she was intensely uncomfortable.

"How do you know Qui-Gon?" Anakin asked, narrowing his eyes to venomous slits. Malice just scoffed and rolled her eyes. "Why would you think your own words were his?" She regarded him stonily from the corner of her eyes.

"A message from him, it was," Yoda spoke, holding his cane close. The old Jedi turned to Anakin. "Saw her communicating with him, did we not?" 

Anakin's brows shot up. Obi-Wan stared at him with mild intrigue. "The last time she was in that state of self communication, we saw the force speaking to her in a way Qui-Gon has spoken to Yoda in the past," Anakin explained.

"I'm sorry, did I hear you right?" Obi-Wan squeaked, lifting his brows. 

"Spoken to me many times, Qui-Gon has," Yoda nodded. "Transferred his life into the living force, he did." Anakin's mouth fell open. He hadn't known something like that was even possible.

"So you think he might have passed a message onto the somewhat merged version of Padmé, who then carved it into the cave wall in a language only Malice can speak?" Obi-Wan sounded aghast, his brows pulled together and his face paled. Even to Anakin, it sounded far fetched.

"That's because it was a private message, Kenobi," Malice spoke in a deathly quiet voice. Obi-Wan turned to look at her with confusion twisting his face. "Your Padmé doesn't remember him as I do." 

"So you have met Qui-Gon," Anakin grumbled.

Malice's upper lip curled. "He's the reason we're split," she stated. Anakin's gut sank to his stomach. There was a cold certainty in her voice that told him she was not just toying with them.

"No... I don't believe that," Obi-Wan shook his head.

"Believe what you want to," Malice laughed dryly. "It's the truth." Obi-Wan's face scrunched in distrust. "Don't let your admirations of your master blind you to what he really was," she growled. "A coward and a liar."

"My master may be many things, but he was never a coward," Obi-Wan spoke harshly, waving a scolding finger. Anakin stared between the pair and his hair bristled. Obi-Wan was buzzing with anger in the force, something that happened very rarely.

"Oh really?" Malice taunted him, the corners of her lips perking up. "Then you certainly didn't know him as well as you evidently think you do." Anakin frowned. What could have possibly happened between those two to make her think so poorly of him? Qui-Gon was a good man, that he knew for sure.

"How exactly did you know him?" Anakin asked again, his brows pulled down over his eyes. Malice shifted her weight, the muscles in her shoulders pulling taught.

"That is for me to know and you to not," she responded with a hiss. Straightening up, she watched them coldly from the corner of her eyes. "You might as well return control to the Senator, I won't tell you anything more." There was a finality in her words that left no room for argument. Anakin blew out a huff of air and trudged towards her.

Placing a hand on her temple, Anakin prepared himself to dip into the force but paused before he did. Glancing down at Malice, he sucked in a short breath. The Sith peered up at him with burning, yellow eyes. "Is it true that you're merging?" he asked her softly.

"Yes," she responded curtly. "Before you ask, I'm not going to help you stop it. The senator already tried her hand at convincing me." Anakin's stomach twisted and a flicker of anger rose within him. Why was she so unhelpful? Why didn't she care? He nearly bit out a laugh at his own confusion. Malice was the literal embodiment of the darkside. Communication and selflessness were probably a sin to her. Without saying anything else, he let out a long sigh and slipped into her mind. It took him a matter of moments to pull Padmé to the surface because Malice, uncharacteristically helpfully, had left her mental shields open . The yellow faded from her eyes, leaving them a loving, warm brown.

Padmé blinked slowly, glancing around and sucking in shallow breaths. Lifting her head to Anakin, she cocked an arched brow. "What happened this time?" fear lingered behind every word.

Anakin blew out a puff of air and sent her a small smile. "Well, we found out that Malice has a connection to Qui-Gon Jinn and he is somehow tied into you being split." Padmé's brows lifted and her mouth fell open. Obi-Wan let out a grunt of dissatisfaction behind him. This was shaping up to be quite the mystery indeed.


	11. Assignment

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m just going to go ahead and say it, I’m sorry for tomorrow’s chapter. It wasn’t planned to turn out the way it did, but... you go where the story takes you.

Padmé leaned her hip against the circular, dormant holoprojector that dominated the floor of the little tent they stood in. Mace Windu and Yoda had called her into the meeting between them, Anakin and Obi-Wan. A tall, long necked Kamonian was standing with them, his pristine clothes mucked with the filth of Dagobah. A cool breeze drifted through the tent, causing its fabric to flap at the edges. Bright beams of light poured in through the open doorway. "Senator Amidala, we require your help," Mace Windu began, leaning his arms down on the projector and staring at her from across its glassy surface. "Doctor Ra-Dan believes he can make a gaseous toxin that would incapacitate the inhibitor chips in all the clones who inhale it." Padmé's brows lifted. What did they need from her? Toxins weren't exactly her area of expertise. "Ra-Dan needs to use the facilities on Kamino to do so, but all of the hyper lanes to the planet are intensely guarded. To try and get through them would be a suicide mission." Padmé remained silent and watched him intently. "There is a warp machine that could take us safely into the planet's upper atmosphere, but it is in a Muun colony in the outer rim and controlled by one of the largest engineering companies in the galaxy." 

Mace pressed down on the holo projector and an image of a man's face burst to life above it. He had sharp, long, features and a charming smile. The sleek hair on his head was pushed back out of his eyes and a thick rimmed pair of safety glasses rested on the bridge of his nose. Padmé's shoulder's tensed at the sight of him. "This is the head engineer, Markus Losset," Obi-Wan gestured to the hologram. She turned towards him, removing Anakin, who was standing beside her, from her line of sight. She knew what was coming. Obi-Wan's blue eyes carefully regarded her, occasionally flicking up to his former padawan. "We need someone to convince Losset to allow access to Kamino. Our sources claim you and Losset were once very close," he explained calmly.

"Yes, we go back many years," Padmé nodded and she could feel Anakin glaring holes into her back. Losset had been Padmé's first relationship and it had lasted several years. It had been Padmé that ended it when she felt their careers had taken them too far apart. It had been respectful and they'd both moved on with their lives. She hadn't seen him since the day they broke up, so she had no real way of knowing how things might have changed over time.

"Would you be willing to negotiate with him?" Mace asked, rising to his full height. Padmé internally cringed at the wording, but it didn't show on her face. Anakin shifted behind her and could sense his discontent growing.

"Ask you, we would not, if any other choice, we had," Yoda, who sat atop the projector, spoke with reverent concern. Padmé knew they were worried about Malice escaping into the galaxy just as she was, or even her merging to become an even greater menace. Being out on a mission would make it much more difficult for the Jedi to recover her should she manage to escape. So, she already knew they would never ask her if they didn't have to. "Be with you, Skywalker will." Padmé had to hold in a grimace. Although they were a great team when suppressing Malice, there were times when her and Anakin found it difficult to work together. Particularly when her exes were involved. A lesson learned the hard way.

"I'll do it," Padmé answered in a heartbeat, but none of the Jedi seemed particularly happy. By agreeing, she was taking on a huge risk. If everything went south the Jedi would be partially responsible as well.

"Thank you," Obi-Wan sent her a soft smile.

"When we have constructed a more intricate plan, we will give you the information," Mace informed her, his face as grim and expressionless as always. Padmé nodded and slipped out the tent into the bright daylight beyond. Their eyes tracked her every step of the way. The moist earthen scent washed over her. Hundreds of fabric tents were pitched all around them. They were all different sizes and shapes. People buzzed in and around them, causing streams of traffic all over the base. The birds twittered a loud chorus to accompany the soft chatter of voices. Tall trees rose high into the air around them. Jedi younglings raced around the grounds, chasing after one another and screaming in delight. Pathways had been worn into the fluffy grass and wove through the thick trees. 

Wrapping her arms around herself, she ducked into a quiet part of the forest. The buzz of the camp faded behind her. All she was left with were tall trees and short shrubs. Finding a little grove of rocks, she perched atop one of them and haunched over herself, burrowing her head into her hands. Focusing on keeping her breath calm, she listened intently to the twittering birds. They sang their hearts out in a chorus of melody and harmony. Some had deeper, gurgling caws. Others had airy, shrill squeaks.

Now she was alone, she allowed her shoulders to droop and her smile to turn downwards. With a weary sigh, she began walking through the clusters of people. A tightness began banding around her chest. Staring down at her wrists, her fingers traced the faint burn marks. Padmé felt a strange disconnect buzzing under her skin. Her mind drifted away from Markus and began mulling over her own issues. If she was only half a person, what was she missing? Were there hundreds of emotions and experiences she simply couldn't fathom? That she would never be able to understand? Unless, she merged. The thought left a bitter taste on her tongue, making her screw up her face. Padmé didn't want to loose who she was. She was proud of all she had achieved and accomplished. She had helped hundreds of thousands of people. She always had the purest intention in her heart. If she merged, she could loose all the things that made her who she was. It scared her that she might simply just cease to exist one day and there was nothing they could do about it.

"Padmé," Anakin's voice spoke from behind her. Padmé jolted, lifting her head to stare at him. He was standing a few meters behind her, Obi-Wan by her side. His face was taught with concern. Obi-Wan cast her a warm smile of greeting. It worried her she hadn't felt them approach, but she knew it was probably because she had been absorbed in her thoughts.

"Can I help you?" she asked, smiling up at them.

The two Jedi glanced at each other. They came lumbering forwards to sit on a rotting, fallen tree trunk that was covered in pudgy moss. "We just wanted to make sure you were certain that you are okay to be sent back out on the field," Anakin responded, his face cut with a deep frown. Padmé could understand why he was concerned. From what he had described about Malice facing off against Dooku, it hadn't been easy to watch.

Padmé swivelled around the rock to face them. "I am," she responded confidently, even if she didn't really believe it herself. The last thing they needed was to be worried about her. It's not as if it mattered wether or not she felt okay to return to the battle, it needed to be done. If they could disable all the clones' chips, the empire would be defenceless and the emperor easy to overthrow. "Are you?" she looked between them both.

"We're Jedi," Obi-Wan chuckled, brushing off her comment. Padmé's brows lifted and she sent him a stern gaze.

"You are also human," she reprimanded him. Obi-Wan no doubt wouldn't have found it easy to learn his former master had something to do with her being split. The Jedi's face fell a little at her statement, giving her all the response she needed. Sighing, she sat up straight and dusted off her clothes. "I've been thinking," she started, both of their eyes focused on her. Anakin paled, but Obi-Wan leaned towards her with interest. "Malice refuses to tell you how she knows Qui-Gon, but perhaps she will tell me."

Anakin and Obi-Wan traded another sideways glance. "I don't know," Anakin frowned, leaning down onto his knees. "Out of us all, she seems to hate you the most."

"Yes, but she can’t hurt me when she could definitely damage to you if you pressed her too hard,” Padmé chuckled lightly. Anakin let out a grumbling sigh, but Obi-Wan seemed content to listen.

*

Anakin watched Padmé closely. Obi-Wan and him were still sitting on the mossy log. She sat opposite them on a small rock, her eyes closed over and lines of concentration etched into her face. The force was easily flowing through her like a spring of light side. Teaching her to find Malice with words was easy, but her actually succeeding was another story. He had never heard of something like this being done before. "When you look inside your mind, you might have to search for a bit, but you will find a little ball of darkness," Anakin explained to her. He could feel her casting her attention inwards. Introspection was one of the first things the Jedi younglings learned, but it was no easy skill. Anakin himself struggled with it when he meditated and it was perhaps the one thing he had never really caught up with his peers at the temple. 

After a few minutes, she let out a low drawl. He could feel the little ball of darkness in her mind stirring upon its discovery. "Now reach out and connect with her," he instructed. Anakin cringed at himself because of his lack of specificity. It was like telling a beginner pilot to just take off. Yet, he had no idea how to simplify such a complex action to someone who knew so little of the force. Obi-Wan was watching her closely with curiosity twinkling in his eyes. They were both desperate to know how Qui-Gon could have been tied up in this mess. 

The moment Padmé formed a connection with Malice, her shoulders slumped and her face went slack. Her mind drifted into a strange emulsion of light and dark. Tightness wrapped around his chest. If Malice was right, then the longer Padmé spent in that state the quicker she would merge because it was when their minds were trading information. Gritting his teeth, he tried to push it from his mind. It was one problem at a time.

Padmé's eyes fluttered open, startling Anakin enough to straighten up. One eye was a nauseating Sith yellow, the other a warm golden-brown. Her posture went completely stiff. With a blank expression, she scanned them both. "Padmé?" Anakin whispered softly. The mis-matched eyes flicked over to him.

"Anakin... Skywalker," she spoke as though they were two separate names she had never heard before. The pressure on his chest grew even greater. Her eyes flicked over to Obi-Wan. "Obi-Wan... Kenobi." It was the same strange disconnect between the two names. Her voice itself was soft and melodic like Padmé's, but it had a thicker Nabian accent.

"To whom do we have the pleasure of speaking?" Obi-Wan asked calmly, a wavering smile on his face. She stared at him completely blankly. "Malice or Padmé?" he offered quietly.

"Both. Neither," she responded, facial expression not shifting.

"That clears things up," Obi-Wan chirped with false cheer, brushing his hands over his legs.

"I wonder if this is the semi-consciousness that Qui-Gon spoke to," Anakin murmured to his former master. Padmé's whole face brightened into a smile at the mention of the deceased Jedi's name.

"I know Qui-Gon," she told them, her body still unnaturally ridged. Lifting a hand, she placed it over her heart. Anakin's brows furrowed further. "He has a message for you." At that statement, both Obi-Wan and Anakin traded a glance and shuffled towards her.

"A message?" Obi-Wan squeaked.

"He is sorry for leaving so soon," her smile sobered as she stared between them both. Anakin's shoulders slumped and he could see the corners of Obi-Wan's lips curling down. "He is very proud." Leaning over her body, she reached her hands out and placed them flat on the Jedi's chests. They stiffened beneath her touch. "With you always. Caring always. Watching always." Obi-Wan sent her a sad smile. Anakin placed his own hand atop hers. A warm sensation tingled in his chest. For only a moment, he thought he detected the faintest glimmer of Qui-Gon’s presence.

"How do you know him?" Obi-Wan asked, his voice a faint whisper. 

Padmé pulled away from them and placed two fingers on her temples. "I don't have that bit of the Sith yet," she responded blankly, her face falling neutral.

"You don't have that part of Malice yet?" Anakin repeated slowly, trying to wrap his mind around what she had just said. Was she trying to tell them that Padmé had actually been split into three? That didn't make any sense, she had been separated into light and dark. There could be no in between. Unless, that was exactly it and she was the grey area.

Padmé cast her eyes to the ground and summoned a round, smooth rock to hover in front of them. Flicking her fingers, it split down the middle. Pointing to one half, she said, "The Senator," she pointed to the other, "the Sith." Manipulating the rock with expert precision, she displayed how they fit perfectly together. "At first, they easily re connect," she explained. With another finger twitch, pieces of the rocks began to crumble and crack, breaking off and hovering close to their parent half. "Over time, they change." Once again she tried to show the two rocks slotting together once again, but their changed shape meant the no longer could. "There is no longer any way for them to connect." Waving a hand around, all the crumbled pieces clumped into a ball that floated between the two halves. Reaching out, she pointed at the little ball. "Me." She clenched her fist and what was left of the two halves crumbled into chunks. "Eventually..." she waved her hand and the crumbled halves joined the sphere of broken rock. "Together again." Anakin's heart stopped beating. A cold feeling washed over him.

"I see," Obi-Wan hummed. "You are the product of their combining minds." The product stared at him blankly and slowly nodded her head. "Are you also trying to say, the senator and the Sith will slowly degrade as you evolve?" She nodded her head. Anakin felt sick. His stomach was impossibly tight and he broke out into a cold sweat. It would be beneficial to have Malice stabilised, but not if the cost was Padmé. He didn't want to have to watch her life and memory sipping out of her grasps and piling into someone else. They were hers. What if she combined and ended up hating him because of Malice?

Obi-Wan placed a warm hand on Anakin's shoulder. The younger Jedi gritted his teeth and took in steady breaths. "If that is the case, what do you think of us?" Obi-Wan asked, gesturing between the two of them.

Looking at Kenobi, she let out a long sigh. "I don't have many memories," she informed them gently. "You are a kind man who feels obliged to fight a war when all you want to do is find peace. Padmé likes you, Malice enjoys tormenting you." Obi-Wan let out a low, humourless chuckle. The product stared over at Anakin, blinking slowly. "A free spirit chained down by trauma and emotion," she commented. He reared back, drawing his head into his neck. That was probably the way Padmé would describe him, just a little more callous. "Padmé loves you so dearly, Malice can't help but do the same. No room for any other emotion." Anakin's heart clenched and he glared down at the floor. A bitter delight bubbled within him. Obi-Wan let out a sigh, but he hardly seemed surprised.

The product perked up slightly, her eyes glazing over. "Time for me leave," she hummed, her words growing softer. Anakin stared up towards her. "It's been fun," she said the words, but he could tell it was a force of habit. Padmé's habit. A habit she had abruptly grown out of recently. A stab of pain hit him in the chest.

The yellow of her eye faded back to brown. Padmé blinked slowly, staring around herself. "Padmé?" Anakin whispered. Her eyes landed on him. She pressed her lips into a thin line and let out a long sigh. Her skin had paled and her shoulders dropped. His gut sank. Whatever she had to say next, he had a feeling he wasn't going to like it.


	12. Qui-Gone

Padmé was in the black void. Her long dress floated around her ankles. Casting her eyes around, she couldn't help but notice she was distinctly alone. "Malice!" she called out into the darkness. Her voice boomed around her. Immediately, a cold sensation washed over her and caused her skin to prickle.

"Senator," a voice devoid of all emotion whispered behind her. Padmé had to stop herself from rolling her eyes. It seemed the Sith always had to make a dramatic entrance. Turning around, she caught sight of Malice. The blackness of her robes brought out her sickly, grey complexion. Two yellow eyes burned within her gaunt face. "What do you want?"

"I want to know why you hate Qui-Gon Jinn," Padmé responded, her hands clasped together and her head held up high. Malice’s face morphed into a scowl so horrific that Padmé was shocked it was even possible. "Was it him who made you hate the Jedi?"

"Why should I tell you?" she hissed, bringing her face up frighteningly close to Padmé's. She didn't bat an eye lid. This close, the senator could pick out the angry, red rim around the revolting yellow irises.

"You met him before we split, so therefor it's my history too," Padmé explained calmly and clearly, her face neutral and passive. Malice took a few steps back and flicked her eyes up and down the Senator. With a grumble, she began pacing back and forwards like a caged beast.

"If I tell you, you're just going to squeal to the Jedi," Malice snapped, her pacing intensified. 

"If what you've said is true and Qui-Gon really did something terrible to you, the Jedi will be heart broken," Padmé told her in the same melodic, calm tone. "Isn't that exactly what you want?" Malice paused to glare at her, the muscles in her jaw going tight, before she approached cautiously.

"Have you met him?" Malice asked, quirking a brow. There was a burning curiosity and desperate plead behind her eyes that threw Padmé off. It was the first time she had seen the Sith with any expression other than a glare.

"I have," Padmé nodded.

"What was he like?" Malice pushed further, her eyes narrowing. She was leaning close, like a toddler impatiently waiting for their parents to start telling a story. To Padmé, it certainly didn't seem like she hated Qui-Gon. For all her talk, perhaps there was more to her than hatred and spite.

"Very strong and wise," Padmé told her softly. Casting her mind back, she scoured her memory for the bits and pieces she remembered about him. "He was also very kind." Malice's eyes watched her intently, hungry for more information. "He freed Anakin from slavery and helped me rescue my people from the trade federation blockade on Naboo."

Malice sucked on her cheeks and glared down at the floor. "Okay," she let out a weary sigh and Padmé's brows shot upwards. "I'll tell you, but only because you have a right to know," Malice sent the senator a stern glare and pointed an accusing finger towards her. A smile split Padmé's cheeks, causing the Sith to roll her eyes. Turning away slightly, she cast her eyes down to the floor once again. "We were six, turning seven, when we first met him," she sighed, her eyes glassing over. It startled Padmé to realise that the first time she met Qui-Gon was actually several years after the real first time they met. "A man broke into our house, holding our mother and us hostage for days on end. He wanted Qui-Gon to come to us." Malice clenched her teeth hard, staring at her other half. "Eventually Qui-Gon came and rescued us. Even although our mother was mortally injured and condemned to a slow, painful death, we still thought of him as the most amazing hero we had ever seen," she let out a humourless chuckle.

"Then why do you hate him?" Padmé asked softly, wrapping her arms around herself. It scared her, how much she had missed of her childhood. It was just striking her now that she had no idea why her mother was sick growing up, she'd always just played along with it. Accepted it. Somehow known she couldn't change it.

"Because of what he told us after," Malice growled, beginning to pace once again. "He told me he'd met my mother years ago after he had just lost the woman he loved before his very eyes. He said that in a moment of weakness, they'd spent the night together." Padmé's mouth fell open, not liking the direction this was going. "Nine months later, we were born." Malice gestured loosely between the two of them. Padmé's body went still. Cold shock froze her internally. "Our mother later admitted that she hadn't contacted him to tell him I was alive because she had no idea how to. She didn't even know his name or that he was a Jedi," she hissed, throwing her arms into the air.

Letting out a huff of air, she ran her hands down her face. Padmé waited silently for her to continue because she could sense that somehow there was more. "The man that held us captive was a fallen Jedi named Xanatos. A former padawan of Qui-Gon's who turned to the darkside after Qui-Gon was forced to kill his apprentice's father. Wanting revenge, he meditated until the force showed him our mother and us. He wanted to make Qui-Gon feel what he had felt when his father was killed. He was going to kill us in front of Qui-Gon, but luckily the Jedi got to him before he got the chance." Malice clenched her hands into tight fists. Angry heat aggressively blushed her face. "Qui-Gon left us completely alone to cope with our dying mother. He claimed the force was warning him that he had no part to play in our lives, that we'd be a lot safer if nobody knew who we really were." Padmé's mouth fell open. "What he didn't realise was that Xanatos had already told someone about our existence. The creature that split us in two," her voice ended with a guttural snarl.

"Oh," Padmé blinked slowly, in complete and utter shock. It was taking her mind several moments to process the new information. Although she could understand why Malice was angry, she also knew Qui-Gon would not have wanted any of this for them. It would have hurt him to walk away, but he really must have felt that was the best decision to keep them safe. Malice was glaring at her with critical eyes, waiting to gauge her reaction like a predator testing its prey. "Who split us?" Padmé asked gently, hoping for a response.

"No. I gave you your answer. Don't ask me to tell you that," she growled. With that, she vanished into thin air and Padmé was sent crashing back into her body.

The first thing she saw was Anakin's steely blue eyes. They bore into her with untold sadness and depth. They were searching for something. For her. Padmé glanced around, absorbing her surroundings as feeling slowly returned her. The humid air tickled her skin with sticky moisture. Everything around her was green. The lush bushes shifted with the soft breeze. The broad trees had thick vines snaking up and down their flakey, pale bark. The canopy was far above them, leaving room for all sorts of animals and birds to sail through the branches like they were weightless. Golden light streamed in through the leaves and spotted the forest floor. The muddy ground beneath her was covered in greenery and rocks. It seemed as though one of the stones had been crushed to smithereens at her feet. "Padmé?" Anakin spoke timidly. 

Pressing her lips together, she let out a long sigh. Anakin was sitting on a rotten, moss covered log just in front of her. Beside him, Obi-Wan was watching her with heavy eyes. Now that she knew the truth of Qui-Gon, she was going to have a difficult task of telling them. As she looked at them, she noticed they looked a little startled and concerned. Anakin looked especially pained, a wince lingering on his expression. "Is everything alright?" she asked, staring between them. Their force presences were tensed and miserable.

"Perfectly," Anakin spoke abruptly, silencing Obi-Wan in the process. The Jedi master peered over at him cautiously. Padmé could tell something was bothering him, but she could always ask later. They were probably waiting with baited breath to find out about Qui-Gon. "Did you discover what you wanted?" Anakin raised a brow towards her, leaning down onto his knees.

"I did," she nodded, a strange feeling twisting in her gut. Surprise slapped their faces. "It's quite..." she blew out a puff of air. The Jedi traded worried glances. "It's not what you'd expect," she clarified, straightening up into proper posture.

"Oh dear," Obi-Wan hummed, stroking his beard and watching her with worried eyes. "That doesn't sound good," he spoke with a light hearted chuckle, but she could hear the pain and dread he was trying to conceal.

"It's... not," she admitted, sending him an apologetic smile. With no further cue, she launched into the story and told them it just as Malice had told her. They kept silent and listened intently. Their faces warped and changed just as hers had. Their shock turned the force jagged and rocky. By the end Obi-Wan was haunched over himself, kneading the bridge of his nose and Anakin was staring glumly at the ground. Silence rang out between them and Padmé wrapped her arms around her stomach.

"Xanatos was Qui-Gon's former student. Everything Malice said checks out to the best of my knowledge," Obi-Wan sighed, running his hands down his face and staring at Padmé with a forlorn pain in his eyes. "So you're Qui-Gon's daughter." Padmé's brows pulled together and she pursed her lips to one side. That was a very strange thought, but it didn't feel incorrect. It was like learning the final ingredient in a recipe you could only read half of.

"But Qui-Gon didn't intentionally let you fall into the hands of the man that split you," Anakin stated firmly, a glimmer of relief shining within him. If anything, at least they knew Qui-Gon was still innocent. "Why didn't he recognise you on Naboo?" his voice hitched and brows lifted.

Padmé pursed her lips and pondered the thought. "Well, I'd changed my last name from Naberrie to Amidala by then and he had only seen me briefly seven years prior," she supposed.

"He wouldn't have recognised your force signature by then either because it would have changed after you were split." Obi-Wan deduced, stroking at his beard. 

"What was the message he left for Malice?" Anakin asked curiously.

Padmé shrugged. "I didn't ask. She got angry and left when I brought up the man that split us and left," she replied honestly. It seemed that it was a touchy subject. No doubt it was an awful experience. Maybe if they warmed up to each other, Malice would spill.

"Why didn't she just tell us this?" Obi-Wan sounded pained, his forehead crinkling.

"I don't think she wanted to harm Qui-Gon's name," Padmé spoke with mild certainty. Both Jedi looked at her as though she had told them Malice was secretly the light side all along. "When she spoke, I detected a lot of begrudging admiration. Deep down, I think she understands why he did what he did but she just can't accept it." Padmé clasped her hands over her knee.

"I saw that too," Anakin agreed with her hesitantly. 

"What of you?" Obi-Wan peered at her with considerate eyes. "Has your perception of your past changed any?" Curiosity twinkled in Anakin's stare. Padmé paused to think about the answer, mulling over her thoughts and emotions. Despite learning the truth, nothing felt any different to her. There were no new memories or sensations.

"It still feels like it happened to somebody else," Padmé hummed, meeting his saddened gaze. 

Obi-Wan nodded, pressing his lips into a thin line and rising to his feet. Anakin rose to join him, but he placed a hand on his former padawan’s shoulder and pushed him back down onto the log. Anakin peered up at him in utter confusion. "This is something I think the council should know," Obi-Wan spoke gently to Padmé and then turned to face her husband. "You have something to tell her." The Jedi master turned and slipped away into the trees before the younger Jedi could protest.

Anakin grumbled beneath his breath and glared down at the ground, refusing to meet Padmé's quizzical stare. "What is he talking about?" Padmé frowned. His chin quivered and he burrowed his face into his hands. Her heart froze in her chest. Lifting herself up, she sat down on the rotten log beside him and placed a hand delicately on his shoulder. "Ani?" she whispered. He choked back a sob. A fine tremble rattled through him. Searing panic rose within her. What was going on? Were the council making him stop seeing her? Had someone died? Were they stripping him of his Jedi rank? No, she didn't think any of those things would make him cry like this.

Pulling his hands down from his face, he took in several shaky breaths. Tears were rolling down his cheeks when he turned to look at her. His eyes were gleaming blue because of their watery redness. “Padmé," his voice was shaking. With the back of a gloved hand he swiped away the tears on his cheeks, only for more to come streaming down. "When you were with Malice, we met another person in your mind." Padmé's brows lifted. Another person? She wasn't aware there was another one. "It's the person you are g-" he stopped, turning away from her and clasping a hand over his mouth as he stifled a sharp intake of breath. Although her heart was pounding, she rubbed circles on his back and squeezed gently at his knee. Blowing out a trembling rush of air, he turned back to her and clasped her hand in his. "You and Malice are slowly draining into this new person. It's how you are merging," he rushed the words out before he groaned and brushed the tears from beneath his eyes. Padmé went numb. "You're going to slowly loose your memories and experiences until everything you have is in this other version of you," he ranted with a water warbled voice. "It is the person who takes control when you are sleeping. They talked to Qui-Gon and carved the words into the wall. They were so unresponsive because there was hardly anything in them, but they've started getting smarter. They're leeching off of you."

Padmé slumped down. Her brows crinkled together and she stared emptily at the ground. She was going to hollow out. She was going to loose all the memories she held dear. She was going to fade out of existence and she wouldn't even be able to tell. Cold fear buzzed inside of her. How much had she already lost? What had she lost? Lifting a few fingers, she brushed them against her temple. Clenching her teeth tightly, she found herself cursing the damn divide in her mind. All it had ever done was bring her misery. Until recently, she hadn't even known she wasn't a whole person. Why did it have to be her? Couldn't someone else have been saddled with this burden? Mentally slapping herself, she pulled her emotions together. She wouldn't wish this on anyone else. Hissing through her teeth, she took in a few deep breaths to calm herself. 

Anakin was watching her with watery eyes. Tears still rolling down his cheeks. "I'm sorry, Padmé," he sniffled, pain dancing across his eyes. "This is my fault, I shouldn't have removed that wall without knowing what it was there for." Padmé shook her head at him, shuffling closer. She begged him with her eyes to stop. "Maybe the Jedi are right. I think we should split Padmé." Her heart froze over. "I can never think clearly when I'm concerned with you and I don't want to keep hurting you." His bottom lip trembled. "I can't take it anymore," his voice was hardly a whisper.

"What?" she whispered, her mouth hanging open in completely disbelief. His eyes began to dry and they had become set with resolution. "Anakin, it wasn't your fault. You couldn't have known. If you want to blame somebody then blame the person who split me in the first place," she argued. Her heart was pounding in her chest and whooshing in her ears.

Anakin aggressively ran his hands back through his hair. "It was because I was so sleep deprived and worried about you that I destroyed Malice's ribs," he spoke with growing sharpness to his voice. "It's because I so hurt by the thought you could have betrayed me that I jumped onto that roof, making it collapse and causing you to be impaled." He jutted a hand at her side, making her curl in on herself. "It's because I was so angry at the doctor for hurting you that I lashed out and he gave you the final toxin." Abruptly standing to his feet, he stepped away from her. All she could see was his back. "It's because I was so desperate to find evidence of your innocence that I broke that wall without stopping to think about the consequences." 

Anakin's breath was coming out in powerful rushes as he looked back at her with guilty, pained eyes. No words would form on her tongue as she stared at him. No arguments could form in her frazzled mind. "I would have left the order for you Padmé, but I see now why they forbade attachments." He slowly turned to face her, fists clenched at his sides. "I can't make good decisions where you are concerned," his voice softened. "I should never have gotten involved with you in the first place. It wasn't fair and it's too late now to go back and change it, though I wish I could." Padmé flinched and a bolt of anger raised within her.

Standing to her feet, she ran her tongue along her teeth. "Don't say that!" she snapped. "You are wishing away all the time we spent together, both the good and the bad. Although it wasn't always perfect, we did love each other and you just want to pretend it never happened?" Her voice strained and her arms flew up into the air.

"If that's what it takes to keep you safe from me, then it's a worthy price to pay," he told sternly, his brows tugging down over his eyes. 

"You've always been overprotective, and I've tolerated it Anakin, but this is ridiculous," her own voice was rising, nearing a shout. Harsh hand movements accented every word. "If you want to forget everything we've been through, then fine. Just walk away," she hissed, pointing back to the camp behind them.

Anakin's dark eyes narrowed to venomous slits and clenched his jaw tightly. He stepped around her and stormed back towards the camp, only stopping to growl, "goodbye, Mrs Amidala." With that, he left. As Padmé watched him go, every step he took drove the stake he had wedged into her heart even deeper. When he was out of sight, she began striding in the opposite direction and deeper into the woods. Fury boiled so hot within her that her skin and face were burning hot.  
Taking in hissing breaths, she desperately fought back the tears that were boiling in her eyes.

'Had a fallout with your boyfriend?' Malice hissed inside her brain, a giggle lining her words.

"Shut up," Padmé snapped.

Malice laughed maniacally. 'How precious. Did he make your little heart hurt?'

"Shut up, Malice," Padmé barked, her pace quickening and her hands curling into tight fists. Her chest was impossibly tight and her nostrils flaring. 

The laughter only grew louder. 'The little princess has had her heart broken,' she sang between spurts of laughter.

"I SAID SHUT UP!" Padmé roared, grinding to a halt, squeezing her eyes shut and slamming her hands over her ears. A powerful wave of the force burst out from her. It was followed by the thunderous noise of cracking and tearing. Lifting her head slowly she glanced around her. The creatures of the forest were screaming in terror and fleeing quickly away. All the trees in her immediate area had been blown back, their bark splintered all over the place. Their mighty roots had been torn from the ground, rising around her like a fortress. The Earth was churned and loose, flattening all the foliage.

Breathing in huffs she dropped down to her knees. Tears sprung to her eyes, but she jammed the heel of her palms into her sockets, refusing to cry. Malice had been silenced, thrown back into the deepest recesses of her mind. Maybe Anakin was right. It was better he was out of her life, because now she knew she could expel Malice from her mind. He wouldn't always be around, she had to learn to control the beast herself. Her breath shallowed and her upset melted away, leaving her with only molten rage. If he wanted to remove himself from her life, then she wasn't going to stop him.


	13. Gasket

Anakin's entire body was tense as he glared out of the glowing viewport ahead of him. The cockpit of the ship was tight, forcing Padmé and him to sit nearly shoulder to shoulder. The flight console curved before him with blinking colourful lights. The arching viewport displayed the shifting blue blur that was light speed. With one elbow planted on the console, he rested his head in his hand. He fidgeted with the controls, trying to think about their mission, or anything else than the tension sucking the air from the room, but he was failing miserably. As a result, the journey so far had ticked by tediously slowly.

Padmé was deathly silent. Her arms were crossed, her body slouched into her seat and her eyes glaring ahead. The muscles in her jaw were so tight he was surprised he couldn't hear it creaking. Normally he would have been pleased to spend so much time alone with her, but he'd been dreading this journey over the last few days. Ever since he ended things, she'd been cold. Distant. She wouldn't even look him in the eyes. The sleepwalking had stopped, but he got the impression that had more to do with the Qui-Gon mystery being settled and less with their abrupt end.

Guilt festered inside of him. He was doing this for her. It wasn't an easy decision to make and every inch of him ached to have her close again, but it had to be done. It was too dangerous for them to be together. Especially when they were in the middle of a war. The fact she couldn't see that was unfortunate, but he wouldn't let it sway his mind. It was for her own good, she'd see that eventually. Maybe when they were old, grey and living separate lives, she'd even say thank you. The thought of spending the rest of his life alone twisted his stomach. Shaking it from his head, he reminded himself that he wouldn't be by himself. He would have the Jedi.

The timing of their split had been a poor decision on his part. Padmé had just been told she was going to drain away into a hollow shell and he had thrown another bomb in her face. It was cruel. His heart squeezed so tightly that it was getting difficult to breathe. If he hadn't done it at that exact moment then he might never have worked up the courage he needed again. When he'd walked away, her anger had been immense. So immense that he had almost gone back to her just to make sure Malice hadn't broken loose. In a snap, it had all gone quiet. The upset and pain had mellowed to nothing and the sheer rage dulled to a cold nip. Ever since then, that's all he'd been able to feel from her. The walls she had erected around her mind were completely blocking him. It tore at his chest because he had grown so used to basking in her light and revelling in her warmth, even from half way across the galaxy. Now, there was nothing. He felt hollowed in her absence. It was a like the universe had lost its colour.

Checking their flight path, he could have cried in relief when he saw they were going to be coming out of hyperspace soon. Sitting back into his seat, he stretched his arms out before him. They popped and cracked. "Padmé?" He spoke her name a little more harshly than he intended. Dropping his arm into his lap, he turned to look at her. She let a low hum of acknowledgement, peering at him from the corner of her eyes. "Markus Losset, is there anything I should know about him before we meet?" he cocked a brow.

Padmé took in a deep breath, casting her eyes back out to hyperspace and pursing her lips to one side. She hummed beneath her breath. "Not really," she sighed, straightening herself out. "I suppose you could say he is a little extreme with his political views and sometimes overzealous, but he is a good person." She nibbled on the inside of her cheek. "Smart too, don't get caught up in his games," her tone held a note of warning. They burst out of hyperspace with a boom. The ship shuddered around them. In the viewport, they could make out a huge, pitted asteroid of a planet. Dark thunderclouds patrolled its skies. On its rocky surface was a gleaming fortress that had tall spires stretching out into space. Anakin's stomach tightened. Padmé hated thunder. It terrified her.

"That's not exactly what I meant," Anakin commented, his brows furrowing. He began flicking at the controls as their ship descended towards the fortress below. Padmé's cold eyes shifted back towards him. "I'm not here to convince him to help us, that's your job," he explained, the look in her eyes didn't change. "I'm here to keep Malice under control. So, is there anything about your history that would trigger her out?"

Padmé's eyes remained cruelly blank. She chewed on her inner cheek and began flexing her fingers. "Not that I'm aware of," she informed him. Their ship gently touched down on the fortress's landing platform. It groaned in relief. "You don't have to worry about him accidentally triggering Malice out either," she hummed as she stood up and stretched her arms over her head. Anakin stared up at her, mentally scolding himself when he felt his eyes lingering a little too long. "We have no bad blood," she sighed, dropping her arms to her side and shuffling towards the back of the ship. Anakin rose also. "We ended things well," her cold eyes pinned his. Bitterness dripped from her voice.

"Padmé," he moaned. She slipped out of the cockpit. Running a hand through his hair, he stood to his feet and tried to temper the guilt that rose within him. Following her lead, he found her waiting by the ship's access ramp as it cracked open and slowly descended to the floor. He approached her slowly. "Padmé, I'm sorry bu-" she lifted a hand, silencing him.

"Put a smile on your face," her tone was harsh and scolding. "We have work to do." Anakin reared away from her, his eyes narrowing. A little bubble of annoyance formed within him. It was no time to be playing games like these. The ramp touched down and she turned away from him, strutting down it to the glossy landing platform below. Gritting his teeth, he kept a few steps behind her.

Space's suffocating blackness loomed above them. Its life consuming vacuum was fending off by a glimmering dome that encapsulated the whole fortress. The brilliant light of the sun that the fortress orbited shone down on them mercilessly. The landing platform was a huge circle of hard ground that was towered over by the fortresses nauseatingly tall spires. A small squad of heavily armoured Muun soldiers were standing to attention behind a man Anakin immediately recognised. The sleek blonde hair and long white lab coat. Markus Losset. Dislike for the man stirred within him. Although he knew it wasn't fair, he couldn't help but resent him. Especially after what Padmé had just said.

"Padmé, Master Jedi," Markus greeted them with a wide smile that flaunted his dimples and pearly white teeth. Anakin had to hold in his scowl.

"Markus," Padmé greeted him happily as she approached. The jovial bounce to her tone startled Anakin. It was very different from the voice he had just heard. Even her face had been lifted with a warm smile. His annoyance flickered once more. He had never understood how she could change masks so quickly. It must have been a skill she had to learn to be a successful politician. Then again, maybe she was just naturally deceptive.

As they stopped before Losset, he grasped Padmé's hand, leaned down and tenderly placed a kiss on her knuckles. "You more beautiful than I remember, Padmé," he commented with a sly grin, releasing her hand. Anakin's blood boiled, even though he knew he had no right to be angry. 

Padmé placed a hand over her heart and smiled warmly in return. "You flatter me, Markus," she responded sweetly. Anakin was biting down hard on his tongue and fighting to control his breath. They were staying until at least tomorrow, so he could already tell this was going to be one of the most hellish experiences of his life. No doubt Padmé was going to make sure of it.

With a light hearted chuckled, Markus turned to Anakin and extended a hand. It took every inch of will power the Jedi had not just to leave him hanging. Reaching out, he grasped Losset's hand into a slightly-too-tight handshake. "You must be general Skywalker," Losset spoke with a chirp, but his smile fell a hair’s breadth. Anakin released his grip, folding his arms over his chest. "I've heard much about you, it's a pleasure to meet you acquaintance."

"And you," Anakin responded gruffly, forcing himself to dip his head politely.

"We'd better get out the sunlight before it fries us to a crisp," he chuckled nodding to them both. Just like that, they followed him into towering fortress. The moment Losset turned his back, Anakin sent Padmé a scalding glare. She cocked him a challenging brow. Clenching his teeth, he glared ahead. He was going to have to start meditating if he wanted to get through this without blowing a gasket.


	14. Taunting Temptation

Padmé was seated comfortably in a little armchair in front of Markus's, long slender desk. Data pads were scattered all over it. The room was small and a sparsely decorated. Awards and trophies lined the blank walls and a few tall plants were pushed into the corner of the room. The air was ridiculously warm and had a sweet, floral scent. Blindingly bright lights shone down on them from above. Anakin was in the armchair next to her, his jaw set and his body ridged. Although Padmé hadn't set out to annoy him, it still felt like vengeance and vengeance she didn't mind. She knew it was petty, but she couldn't help herself. Not when she was still so angry.

"Although I am happy to see you again Padmé, I'm assuming you've come for more than just a social call?" Markus leaned forwards onto his desk, clasping his hands together and shooting her a curious stare.

Padmé crossed over her legs and let out a long huffing sigh. "As I'm sure you've probably realised, we are part of the resistance against the empire," she jutted a thumb between her and Anakin. Markus seemed completely unfazed, but Anakin stiffened ever so slightly. "I know that you know, just as well as I, that the tyranny of the empire needs to come to an end. It's causing wide spread pain and misery all over the galaxy." Markus nodded slowly, the corners of his lips tugged downwards. "If I told you we might have a way to destroy the Emperor, would you help us?"

Markus straightened up, his eyes narrowing. "You want to use the warp, don't you?" he sighed. She could sense hesitance and disappointment rolling off of him in waves. Padmé leaned forwards, grasping his hands into her own and staring at him with unwavering eye contact.

"Markus, please," Padmé begged. "I know you have never been afraid to stand up for what you believe in. I know you could never stand idly by when you see someone else in pain, so please. Help us." Markus's eyes dropped to the table, but he slotted his fingers through hers and gave her hands a firm squeeze.

"If I help the rebels, it's not just my life I'm risking. Everyone on this colony will have a death sentence and all my work could be destroyed," Markus responded softly, pain cracking his eyes. Padmé could sense he wanted to help. He really wanted to help.

"I know the risk is steep, but our forces will do everything in their power to make sure none of this can be traced back to the colony," she assured him. His eyes softened. "Just think of all the lives you could help to save," she urged him. Padmé felt resolution solidify within him and shine up through his eyes. He pursed his lips and let out a heavy sigh. Sitting back into his chair and releasing Padmé, he ran a hand down his face. Leaning back into her own chair, she used her eyes to plead with him still.

"Alright," he huffed. "Just how many ships are we talking." A smile brightened Padmé's face and she could even feel Anakin's mood lifting ever so slightly. Well, as much as it could when he was angry like that. 

For the next few hours, they talked about the logistics of using the warp and all the relevant timings. There was a lot to consider and it was mostly a conversation between Markus and Anakin. They knew their respective fields well and the plan seemed to just click together. Only occasionally did she need to step in for extra input or to steer the conversation back on track. 

Eventually, she found herself beginning to tire as the weariness set in. It creaked in her bones and joints. She could practically feel the life draining from her body. Her mind began to wander and her eyelids became weighted. Anakin glanced over at her once or twice, no doubt picking up on her sudden stillness. Padmé refused to meet his eyes, keeping them trained on Markus. Irritation rose within her. Her fatigue had been so overwhelming. It felt like she could hardly do anything before she was worn out. All she could do was grit her teeth and bear it whilst trying not to think of the time when she had been more able. When she could spend two days straight in intense negotiations and still have the energy to fight for her life by the end of it. Now, it was only a few hours and she was thrown. Anger at the doctor who had poisoned her flared up within her mind. It was him who'd done this to her. His selfish ways had left her damaged for the foreseeable future.

Smothering the rage, she tried to calm herself down. It would do her no good to hold anger against a dead man. All it would do was poison her mind. As her irritation simmered away, she was left feeling completely helpless. No matter what she did, she was going to suffer through the fatigue. There was no running from it and there was no hiding. It was a part of her now and she was just going to have to accept it.

Deep inside, she somewhat wished the doctor had been successful in killing her. Then she wouldn't have had to suffer through all this nonsense. Anakin wouldn't have been riddled with guilt and it would never have ended so badly between them. Malice would be gone too. The galaxy would be rid of a nuisance. As it was, Padmé wasn't much use to anyone. Keeping her in check had become a burden to the Jedi. If they didn't have to think about her, they could completely focus their attention on the empire. Maybe they would have caught and killed the Emperor before they were overthrown. Perhaps it would have been better if she had died. 

"Padmé," Anakin's voice grabbed at her attention. Mildly startled, she looked over at him with wide eyes. He was staring at her with a concern wrinkled brow. A tiny bubble of anger rose within her at the sight of him. An anger she couldn't quite justify. She shouldn't blame him from wanting to get away from her. After all, she had just become a set back to everyone around her. 

The moment she came to her senses, she tore her eyes away from him and glanced back at Markus. "That was us just saying we have everything in place for tomorrow," he explained, casting her a warm smile. Padmé reflected it with one of her own.

"Wonderful," she chirped. "My apologies, my head was in hyperspace," she chuckled pointing at her temple with a roll of her eyes. It was getting difficult to keep her mind on track the more her fatigue grew. That was something she had been battling ever since order sixty-six.

"Happens to the best of us," Markus hummed, sending her a teasing grin and a sly wink. Padmé fought herself over how she should respond. She knew she shouldn't try to annoy Anakin, but it was being offered up to her on a plate. With the anger that was already bubbling away inside of her, it was too tempting to resist.

"Is that from personal experience?" she asked, cocking her head to one side and sending him a devious grin. Anakin's jaw almost imperceptibly tensed.

"You know it is," Markus chuckled.

"Perhaps we should retire for the night," Anakin spoke abruptly, pushing himself to a stand. Wrestling an amused smile from her face, she followed his lead and stood. Much more and he'd probably snap, which wouldn't be good for their mission. As much as it would satisfy her to see him implode, she knew her duty came first.

"Of course," Markus responded, nodding good bye. Anakin fled the room as though it was on fire, but loitered by the door as she left. "Oh, Padmé!" Markus called, just as she put one foot out the door. Turning back to look at him, she sent him a curious smile. The corners of his lips were curled down, his brows crinkled. "The forecast for tonight is a lot of thunder. I just thought I should warn you," he told her gently. Padmé's gut tightened. She hated thunder. It had terrified for as long as she could remember and she didn't even know why.

"It's alright," Padmé chuffed. "I'd never feel scared here." She heard Anakin's knuckles popping. Markus sent her a goofy grin. "I'll see you tomorrow," she told him quietly, dipping out the door where Anakin awaited with a furious scowl. She could feel his anger burning her through the force. Brushing past him, she made her way down the blinding, white corridor beyond.

They walked back to their rooms in complete silence. Padmé could feel his glare on her back, but she didn't care. It puzzled her why she was still so mad. If she loved him, then surely she should have just been willing to let him go. For his sake. It was unlike her to be spiteful and angry, yet here she was toying with him for her own satisfaction. Perhaps, when she'd been split in two, a little of the dark had been left behind after all.

Padmé stalked into her room. It was small and bland. It had a large white bed that was pushed against one wall and a cream dressing table that had a few of her things scattered over the top of it's glossy surface. The bedsheets were pristine. Not a single wrinkle covered it's taught, bland bedding. The scent of fresh laundry lingered in the air. Dim, yellowed lights shone down from above. There were no windows on the walls, but there were a few basic pictures. A couple of rounded, grey chairs were scattered across the laminate, charcoal floor.

Rubbing at her eyes, she moved to the little dresser and slumped down into the chair. All her muscles were heavy and stiff. She supposed she had better get ready for bed because she could tell she didn't have much longer until the sleepiness she couldn't cope with hit. In the large, circular mirror before her, she could see the bags deepening her eyes.

There was a rapping knock at her door. From the burning fury on the other side, she already knew who it was. Padmé let out a grumbling groan. She was too tired to fight with Anakin. If he came in, there was no doubt she just get riled up and that would dwindle the remaining time she had awake even further. Still, she had made her bed. She was going to have to lie in it. Especially if she wanted this mission to succeed. "Come in," she called. 

The door whooshed open. Not turning to look at him as he stalked in, she lifted her hands to her tight updo and began pulling out the long pins that held it together. If she was going to have face him, she might as do something else that was going to be bothersome at the same time. "Padmé," Anakin spoke with a gruff edge. He was standing a few meters behind her. From his reflection in the mirror, she could only make out his upper torso. Keeping her eyes fixed on her own face, she continued deconstructing her hairstyle. She hummed a low acknowledgement. "Stop trying to aggravate me," the command in his voice prickled rage across her skin.

"I'm not sure what you mean," she responded innocently, unwinding long strands of hair that fell into curls around her shoulders. In his reflection, she could see him suck in a deep breath and clench his hands into fists.

"This is childish," he growled. Padmé knew he was right, but her anger was blinding her to his truth. All she felt was anger. Burning rage like never before. Staying silent, she dismantled the headpiece that held the majority of her hair. It all fell into ringlets down her back. "Padmé, I'm trying to stay calm. For the sake of the mission. You know just as well as I that it's for the best we ended things."

"We?" she asked, over dramatically. Finger combing the ends of her hair, she chuffed a humourless laugh. "I wasn't aware there ever was a 'we'." He remained silent for a few moments. She could just picture the way his face was screwing up in confusion.

"What do you mean?" he asked, hurt lacing his tone.

"Didn't you say you wished you had never gotten involved with me?" she asked in a deceptively sweet tone. He took a small step back from her. "Well, I'm just granting it." Her fingers methodically pulled apart a tight knot in her hair. "We never were anything, so you shouldn't care about me and other men," her voice adopted a slight edge.

"You're being ridiculous!" Anakin cried, throwing his hands into the air. "Is it brining you pleasure to see me so angry? I didn't want to break up anymore than you. I did it for your own good and you're trying to kill me with it!" his anger was straining his voice.

Padmé turned to look at him, levelling his furious glare with her own. "If I really am such a pain to you, you don't need to worry. I won't be around much longer to torment you anyway," she snapped, immediately regretting the words as soon as they left her mouth. Anakin stiffened, his eyes going wide. It looked like she had just slapped him. Her own expression dropped.

Turning back to the dresser, she thrust her head into her hands and fought against the pain that she had just staked into her own heart. Her hair fell around her head, providing a curtain of privacy. Warmth spread across her eyes. A fine shake rattled her body. "Padmé," Anakin's voice was a hushed whisper. He took a step towards her.

"Go away Anakin," she groaned into her palms, pinching at the bridge of her nose. He didn't shift. "I SAID GO AWAY!" she shouted, lifting her head to glare at him. She was shocked by her own volume. Anakin's skin had gone paper white. Wounded eyes stared down at her, his mouth slightly ajar. Padmé jutted her jaw to one side. Blinking slowly, he gave her a small nod and backed out of the room with his shoulders drooping. The moment he left, her tears began flowing.


	15. Terror In The Night

Anakin lay flat on his back, staring up at the blank ceiling above him. The room was pitch black. The only luminance came from the red light that blinked on the access panel. Quiet thunder rumbled in the distance. The mattress suctioned onto his back. His arms were splayed out by his sides. The overpowering scent of fresh bedding was giving him a headache. The sheets lay in disarray all around him. Despite the chilling breeze that blew over his bare chest, his skin was sweltering and hot. His pyjama trousers clung to his legs. Panic kneaded his insides. Padmé's words were on a loop in his head. 'I won't be around to torment you much longer.' He pressed his palms against his face and let out a little whimper. Even if they were just fighting like this forever, he'd take that over her slowly fading away.

Ever since their first argument, he hadn't been able to sense what she was feeling. When she'd yelled at him to leave, he caught a glimpse of what was behind her shields. It was an anger he'd never thought her capable of. A pain he'd cut off a limb to take away. A misery she was drowning in. The worst of it was, he knew he was the source of it all. The physical and the mental stress. Anakin was really beginning to question wether or not he made the right decision, pushing her away like he did. The guilt he felt was nearly tripled by her upset. Why couldn't he get this right? Why did he just keep hurting her? His chest tightened and he pushed his hands harder into his face. Pressure was building behind his eyes.

A loud crack of thunder made him jolt. His heart was set off racing and his body went tight. Dropping his arms back down to the bed beside him, he blew out a long breath. That had sounded as though it was right beside him. His mind was cast to Padmé. He remembered how terrified she had been when they'd been caught in a storm on a negotiation mission to Kamino. After sneaking into her quarters, he'd held her close the whole night. It was the most scared he had ever seen her in his life. His stomach clenched because he knew she would be curled up in a little ball, in the corner of the bed, shaking like a leaf. Anakin wanted nothing more than to go to her, but that wasn't his place any more. Padmé was resilient, she'd weather through.

There was another loud boom. This time, the force shifted. From Padmé's room just across the corridor, there was a surge of the darkside. Leaping to his feet, he summoned his lightsaber to his hand and zoomed to his door. Impatiently bouncing on the balls of his feet as it slowly slid open, he squeezed through the smallest gap he could. Dashing across the blindingly bright corridor, he punched at Padmé's access panel. Light made him squint his eyes. This door seemed to open even slower than the last one. His heart was racing, the cool metal of his lightsaber pressed into his warm hands. Slipping through the gap, his chest scrapped against the door’s hard edge. There was nothing but darkness beyond. With a flick of his thumb, he ignited his sapphire blade.

Cold, blue light illuminated the room. The door clicked shut behind him. He could see Malice kneeling, doubled over herself on the bed and clenching fistfuls of sheets. The silky fabric of her nightdress reflected the glow of his blade. Her chest was rising and falling rapidly. A quiver rattled her frame. Her long hair fell around her face, concealing her eyes from him. The darkside was flowing steadily through her and swirling around her mind. Flicking his fingers, the lights blared to life. He had to squint his eyes against the yellowed beams. His lightsaber hummed in his hands. "Malice?" he spoke harshly, creeping cautiously closer. Malice turned her head towards him. Her wide eyes glowing yellow through thick curls of hair. She shakily began straightening up, her eyes locked on him the whole time. Extinguishing his lightsaber, he clipped it to his waistband. With a sigh, he slowly approached her. He supposed it made sense that both halves of Padmé would share the same fears if they shared the same emotional connections.

Thunder rattled the room. Malice was up in a shot, pressing her back into the corner of the room, pushing her hands out in front of her in defence. They shook so hard that their edges had become hazy. Her eyes stared at him as though he was a deep space monster. A terrified whine escaped her lips. Once again Anakin crept closer, like he would a scared animal. His arms were lifted in submission. "I won't hurt you Malice. I just need to bring Padmé back," he spoke sternly but his voice was still quiet and low.

Thunder cracked so loudly it made his eardrums ache. Malice screamed, dropping like dead weight to the floor, curling in on herself and squeezing her head between her knees. Anakin's heart ached. All he could see was a terrified Padmé. Squatting down in front of her, he gently reached for one of her arms. Thunder struck once more. Malice sprung up like a jack in the box. Before she could flee, he wrapped an arm around her waist and tugged her down into his arms. She writhed in his grasps like a fish on land. Grunting with effort, he twisted himself around and sat back against the wall. She let out cries of terror, clawing at the cold floor with her hands and feet to escape him. He kept her waist and upper body securely trapped across his lap. "Malice, calm down," he grunted, straining to hold her still.

"Let go, please," she begged him in a breathy, high pitched voice. It made his heart ache. Anakin couldn't let her go. For her own safety and the safety of others. Who knows what she would do if an innocent guard mistook her for someone hostile. "He's going to hurt me," she whimpered, desperately clawing at the floor. Anakin's brows pulled together. At first he was going to object and tell her that he wasn't going to harm her, but a look into her force presence halted him. Fear and horror were overwhelming her, but her mind was distracted. It wasn't completely occupied with him. She was speaking about someone else.

"Who's going to hurt you?" He asked in a strained voice as he fought to keep her subdued.

"The bad man," her voice crackled with emotion. Anakin's brows shot up. He instantly understood what was happening. Why she was freaking out. Why she was speaking so cryptically. Why it felt like he was talking to a child. Malice's mind was stuck in the past. An event that scarred her. The thunder must be a trigger for her flashback. Perhaps that's why Padmé had seemed to have an irrational fear of it for so long.

"Malice, whatever you are seeing, it's over," he assured her calmly. "He can't hurt you anymore." The struggling eased a little and he could feel her clinging onto his words like a life line. "You're safe now."

"Bring Padmé back," Malice pleaded, going still in his arms and dropping her head. "She will stabilise us. Please." Sucking in a deep breath, he plunged himself into the force. The Sith's turbulent mind was open to him. All of her fear and terror attacked him from all sides. He had to fight through overpowering winds of horror. The odd flash of her memories assaulted. Pain. Feeling himself being torn in half. A pale, noseless face. Red, leering eyes. A tangible, dark curiosity. He thrust them away from his mind and pushed onwards. 

Padmé's consciousness was weak and dim. He could hardly feel it whilst he was focusing straight on it. Grabbing the light, he began tugging her back towards the surface. It felt like dragging a limp body across a storming sea. He was drowning in Malice's distress. Padmé wasn't reaching for him either. Her presence was completely dormant and yet it was still shunning him. It pained him, how weak their bond had become. Once again, he questioned wether or not he'd made the right decision to cut himself out of her life. It was his job to keep her afloat and their poor relationship was affecting how well he could do it.

Finally, he managed to pull her back to control. The storming darkness was substituted with a bleary light. Padmé's elbows were planted on the ground, her head hung forwards into a mess of curls. She was breathing hard, still bent over his lap. He could sense her mind was in a scrambled, disoriented haze. Placing her palms flat on the ground, she was tried to ground herself into her body. From the way her force presence was spinning and self contained, he could tell she hadn't even noticed he was there yet.

With a soft sigh he leaned against the cool wall. Her warmth seeped into his legs and stomach. His eyes remained completely focused on her. In all Malice's movement, the night gown had ridden up to her shoulder blades. He couldn't stop himself from admiring the way her muscles shifted beneath her skin whenever she took a breath. With his eyes, he traced the sharp ridge of her spine that curved all the way down her back, dipping beneath the hem of her tight shorts. Anakin's brows furrowed. Although he was glad she did, Padmé never normally wore shorts beneath her nightdress. She hated wearing them with a vehement passion. His jaw clenched. She must have been expecting something like this to happen. Anger bubbled within his chest. How was he supposed to stop Malice from escaping when Padmé never told him she was near? Did she really hate him that much now? Once again, he found himself doubting wether or not he'd been correct in ending their relationship.

Padmé shifted weakly on top of him, the light hitting her back at a different angle. There was a thin scar in the shape of an 'x' between two ribs. Anakin's chest tightened and he had to restrain himself from reaching out to touch it. The memory of her screams as he pinned her beneath a rock burst into his mind. He had to squeeze his eyes shut to block it out. No. He was right. Their relationship had to end. So that he would never hurt her again. Accidentally or not.

Letting out a soft groan, she began pushing herself up and out of his lap. A weary confusion was stirring in her head, but she had managed to anchor herself into her body. "Padmé," he whispered softly. She froze, her mind immediately raising its cold defences like a cloud blocking out the heat of the sun. Anger rose within him. How was he ever supposed to keep Malice under control if Padmé was determined to keep him in the dark about her mental state?

Padmé immediately pulled herself away from him, rising unsteadily to her feet and sending him a cold glare. "What happened?" she asked, pulling her brows down.

Anakin used the wall to push himself back up to a stand. "Malice took control, but I managed to sense it and pull you out," he grumbled, crossing his arms over his chest. A little frown twisted her features. "Padmé, you're being really unhelpful," he growled.

Padmé lifted her brows, turning her head to gawk up at him. "Unhelpful?" her voice hitched. 

"Yes," he snapped. She reared back slightly. "You knew Malice was going to take control and you didn't tell me," his voice was a low, aggressive rumble.

"What would make you say something so ludicrous?" she hissed, hugging her arms around her chest and narrowing her eyes to venomous slits.

"Your shorts, Padmé," he replied sharply. "I know you hate wearing them to bed, so why else would you have them on if you weren't afraid you might have to see someone before the morning." Anakin knew he sounded creepy, but just because it was a slightly awkward fact didn't make it any less valid.

Padmé gripped the edge of her nightdress and tugged it down over her shorts. "So I can't wear shorts without being convicted of treachery?" her voice held a note of incredulity and she leaned closer. His scowl became even more fierce. They both knew she was taking his words out of context. "Believe it or not, Anakin, you don't know everything about me," she rose her voice.

"Whatever Padmé," he snapped, throwing his arms into the air. It was late, he was tired and he just didn't want to fight anymore. They could pick this up in the morning.

Rolling her eyes, she turned away from him and stalked back around to the other side of the bed. Perching on its side, she began twirling her hair into a bun. "Alright, you've saved the day. You can leave now," she spoke with sarcasm dripping from her voice.

"No, I don't trust you," he told her with flint. She glanced over her shoulder, her eyes stonily resting on his. "You're lucky I was already awake and sensed Malice. I will not risk the lives of everyone in this base because you are being uncooperative." Padmé narrowed her eyes, but turned away from him with a hefty sigh.

"Do what you want," she grumbled, securing her hair tightly at the base of her skull. Anakin gritted his teeth, but pushed down the anger that rose within him. Lying down on her side, she curled up into a little ball. With a huff, he perched down on the edge of the mattress and ran a hand down his face. He lay down horizontally at the bottom of the bed, his arms draping over his stomach. Even if Padmé's legs were fully extended, she would never reach him. He supposed that was one advantage to her tiny height.

Time ticked by slowly. Now that they were no longer arguing, the sound of rumbling thunder was painfully obvious. The mattress was rattling with Padmé's trembles. "I'd never get scared here," Anakin mocked her in a high pitched, feminine tone. Of all the shameless things she had said to Markus, that had been the one that bothered him the most because he knew it was simply not true.

"Shut up," she spoke in a harsh, breathy voice. Anakin's gut twinged with guilt. As angry as he was, he didn't enjoy seeing her this scared. Especially when he knew there was nothing he could do about it. Why lightning triggered such an intense flash back in Malice, he couldn't figure out. What he did know was that it had something to do with her being split. He'd felt it in his mind just as Malice had. It was like getting your tongue halved and feeling the muscles going slack as they separated. It sent a cold shiver racing down his spine. Eventually, the thunder passed and Padmé's shaking ceased. When that happened, he resented how easy it was for him to just slip into a slumber because he knew she was there.


	16. Severed

When Anakin awoke the next morning, his mind was slow to start. Half of him expected to see the sun peaking through a forest canopy above. Instead, he was greeted with a bland, plaster ceiling. Blinking slowly, he rubbed at his face. The force was buzzing around him. Life was swarming like a bugs nest. There were people all across the base in many different states of wakefulness and with so many different emotions lingering around them. 

Groaning, he lifted himself to sit up. After staring around for a few moments, he began understanding where he was. The memories of the night before drifted back to him in dribbles. The thunder. Malice. Padmé. The fight. With a yawn, he stood up. The bed sheets were slightly messy, but everything else in the room was clean and pristine. The yellow light shone down on him from above. A light mist of floral perfume clouded the air. Padmé was nowhere to be seen. Anger began bubbling up inside of him. How was he supposed to keep her in check when he didn't even know where she was?

Closing his eyes over, he reached into the force and scoured the base for her. That luminous light of hers was shining at the other end of the building. Her shields were still up, making it impossible to detect how she was feeling. He didn't really need to know because he could sense Markus right beside her. Losset was nervous. Anakin sucked in a deep breath. The tiny hairs on his skin pricked upright. His anger had bloomed into full blown rage.

Striding out of her room, he delved back into his own. Yanking on his clothes and tugging his hands through his hair, he was back out into the corridors and powering through the fortress. He passed by lots of Muun on the way. They were bustling around, getting on with their daily lives. A couple of them stared warily as he passed, even stepping out of his way. Anakin's fist were clenched. The muscles in his chest were so taught with rage they ached. He fought to remain in control of his breathing.

When he arrived at the room he sensed Padmé in, he wasted no time bursting through the door. The area beyond was spacious and wide. On the wall furthest from him was a huge, curving control panel with hundreds of colourful, blinking lights and glaring screens. Above that was a long, rectangular window that look out into the blackness of space. Hundreds of twinkling stars could be seen glittering in the inky darkness. The tiled, laminate floor was completely empty. This appeared to be a control room of sorts. Padmé and Markus were standing beside the console, looking out into the depths of space. They glanced back at him the moment he entered the room. Her eyes widened when she saw him, clearly sensing his outright rage. "I'll be back in a moment," she muttered to Markus.

As she walked over, she eyed him cautiously. Anakin's temper was boiling so high that it was about to bubble over. Padmé skirted around him, nodding her head to follow. Reluctantly, he did. They slipped through a pair of thick double doors and into a tiny little lounge area. A round, silvery table was surrounded by a set of short, navy chairs. The blue carpet was squishy beneath his boots. Two large windows peered out into the blackness of space. The stale scent of caff lingered the air. No one else was there and the huge doors blocked out any of the outside noise. Padmé turned to face him, leaning on the back of a chair. "Why didn't you wake me up?" Anakin spoke lowly, taking in deep, whooshing breaths.

"You're much easier to tolerate when you're asleep," she answered curtly, sending him a cold stare and crossing her arms over her chest.

"Is this a joke to you?" he shouted, taking a step towards her and throwing his arms into the air. Padmé seemed a little startled by his outburst, her brows shooting up and her face paling. "First you won't tell me when you think Malice might seize control and now you're sneaking off when I am not paying attention?" The muscles in his neck throbbed. His voice crackled with strain. He was drawing closer and closer to her, fury bubbling inside him. "How can I do my job well, if you won't let me?" he yelled, aggressively jutting a palm towards her. Padmé looked affronted. She blinked up at him with wide, rounded eyes. "If Malice escapes and kills these colonists, their blood will be on your hands, not mine," he spat, towering over her. Padmé's mouth hung agape. Part of him regretted those words, but he was still too furious to care. His chest was heaving, his hands clenched so tightly he feared the bionic one might break.

"Obi-Wan sent a transmission to say you could join him now if you felt like your work here is complete," she spoke in a deathly quiet voice. "You should go." Padmé's eyes were stony as they rested on him.

"Leave?" Anakin's voice hitched with incredulity. He couldn't believe the words he was hearing. More anger boiled within him. "How can I after Malice broke loose last night? You can't control her, you need me to reign her in!" He growled, pressing a hand against his chest.

"I do not need you," she hissed, rising to her feet and narrowing her eyes to tiny slits.

"Oh really?" he sneered, leaning his arms down on the chair behind her and trapping her between them. Their faces became level, but she held his gaze confidently. "How many times have I had to chase Malice down and pull you back to control?" Padmé's face twisted in anger. Anakin knew what he was saying wasn't fair. She had no choice in the matter and it was no fault of her own, but how could she say she didn't need him when she so obviously did? It was disrespecting all the pain and anguish he had gone through so many times over to bring her back to consciousness.

"You should go," Padmé reiterated, crossing her arms even further. Anakin's grip on the chair tightened. "There are no thunderstorms forecast for today and the only person on this base capable of triggering Malice out of me is you," she growled, bringing her face closer to his. They held a steady glare. Anakin's fury was spiralling out of control. Rising to his full height, he jutted his jaw to one side. If she wanted him to go so badly, then that's exactly what he would do.

*

Anakin's blood was still boiling with livid rage. The cockpit of the ship he sat in was tiny, taking up the majority of the vehicle's body. A viewport domed in front of him. Just beyond it, glowing blue lights shifted and shimmered into the shape of a tunnel. A few dark shadows of other ships danced in front of him. They were travelling through the warp steadily, the engines purred around him. The force was muted. Instead of it feeling like the surface of an ocean, it was a stream that flowed in only one direction. Forwards. Because of that, he couldn't sense Mace Windu or Obi-Wan in the ships ahead, but they would be able to feel him.

Sitting back in his seat, he crossed his arms tightly and clenched his teeth. His heart pumped fury through his veins. He still couldn't believe that Padmé was being so uncooperative. Even when she was angry at him in the past, she had always been able to shelf her emotions for the greater good. Now it almost felt as though she wanted Malice to escape. He let a hiss of air out through his teeth. A little voice in the back of his head was questioning wether or not it was safe to leave her alone with so many vulnerable people. She had, after all, become a hazard to their well-being. To their lives.

Anakin's nose wrinkled. It was too late now. There was no way he was going back. Not when she had told him so vehemently she wanted him to go. She was the one being difficult. He would have been more than happy to work with her peacefully after their split. He had thought she would at least respect his wishes, his desire to distance himself from her so that he wouldn't hurt her again. More than anyone, she should have understood. It hurt that she had become so cold. It hurt that she wanted to make him so angry. It hurt that she was willing to risk other people's lives because of her own grudge against him. 

Anakin let out a heavy whoosh of air through his nose and tried to smother his rage. If he wanted to do his current mission to the best of his ability, he was going to have to forget about her temporarily. Padmé would just have to fend for herself until he returned at the end of the rotation. The flow of force carried a tiny sliver of her presence to him. It was blocked off and cold. Taking a page from her book, he shut his mind to her. Their connection was broken.

There was a white flash and before he knew it, the rebel ships burst out of the warp and into the space just above Kamino. His heart leapt into his throat. The little blue planet was spinning peacefully in the absolute darkness. Grey clouds floated across its wild oceans. What startled Anakin was the huge imperial cruisers that were hovering in orbit. A tense uneasiness clenched his gut. They were lying in wait for the Jedi. This was a trap. A hoard of ships were flying towards them at a terrifying pace. To make matters worse, the warp wavered out of existence behind them. They were completely cornered.


	17. Memory

Padmé stood in the warp control room, her head hung low and her arms wrapped around her body. The same room Anakin had barged into just that morning. All the emotions of the Muun people hit her like raindrops, sliding down her skin, not sinking in. She could hardly feel them anyway. It was like she had grown numb to everything around her. The whole day she had been walking around in a haze. She hadn't even felt anything as the rebel ships rose to their glory. There was no hope for defeating the empire. When they vanished into the warp, the claps and cheers of the Muun people rung in her ears. The happy chatter that filled the room was just background noise. When Markus came to ask her to stay until after the workers cleared, the smile on her face had been so fake it wobbled. Despite wanting to crawl back to her room and curl up into a little ball, she stayed. Out of duty. Duty always comes first.

As she stood towards the back of the room, she could see a glowing blue light that shone in the depths of space. All of the rebel ships had vanished into the light. Anakin went with them, his presence completely disappearing. Watching him leave had hurt her so much more than ever before because she had the distinct feeling it was the final time. They had run their last lap together and now their tracks were diverging. It was for the best. It had to be for the best.

Eventually all the Muun scientists that had been aiding Markus shuffled from the room, leaving them alone. The glossy floor gleamed under the bright lights. Markus was leaning over the wide control panel, a hand pressed against his forehead. Padmé crept a little closer, rolling her shoulders and putting on a smile. "Are you alright, Markus?" she asked, hanging a few meters back from him. She didn't trust herself near the console. What if she accidentally pressed something that meant the Jedi were stuck on Kamino at the heart of imperial territory?

Markus lifted pained eyes to turn back and stare at her. He looked like he'd kicked an infant. Her stomach dropped. "Padmé, I-" he began, but the door behind them opened with a whoosh. Padmé's hair stood on end. She glanced over her shoulder. A tall karkarodon male sauntered into the room with a wide smile, showing rows of gleaming sharp teeth. His shark like body was wrapped in leathery, grey skin. He was incredibly tall, nearly double her height. The huge muscles in his arms were as broad as her chest. The black, beady eyes that peered out of his skull were fixated on her.

"Amidala?" the shark-like man asked with a low, rumbling voice. Padmé glanced over at Markus. He was glaring down at the warp controls, his hands clenched into tight fists. The door closed behind him, red lights above it flashed as it locked securely into place. Huge bolts slid out from the wall, pinning it down.

Padmé let out a long sigh and closed her eyes over. A stab of pain jabbed at her hollowed heart. "That would be me," she sighed, turning to face the giant man. "To whom do I have the pleasure of speaking?" she cocked an arching brow.

"Kip," the shark grunted, approaching her with a few lumbering steps. The closer he got, the faster her heart began to beat. Panic began boiling inside of her. Malice was stirring. "I'm a bounty hunter under contract with the empire."

Padmé shook her head slowly, her jaw tensing. Turning to Markus, he still wouldn't look her in the eyes. "Markus, what have you done?" she asked, her voice cracking.

"He sold you and the Jedi out for protection from the empire," Kip barked a laugh. "They are flying straight into a trap." Padmé's stomach clenched, her eyes flicking to the glowing, blue warp. 

"Markus, anything the empire promises is fake," she bit, her hands clenching into fists by her sides. "They will claim all of your assets and once they've dripped you dry, they will kill you." His shoulders tensed. "I've seen it happen to so many recently," she had a begging whine.

"I didn't have a choice," Markus snapped, his body completely ridged. "They approached me before you. I'm responsible for the lives of these colonists. I had to put them and my work first." Padmé's mouth formed a thin line. She understood why he was doing what he was doing, but that didn't make it any less of a betrayal.

Kip sauntered closer, towering over her. In his hands, a pair of cuffs gleamed. Padmé stared up a him defiantly, her head still held high. “The Emperor told me to put these on you. Said you had those silly Jedi powers,” he grunted, his eyes flicking up and down her petit frame. “You’re a bit bite sized for a Jedi.”

“With a mouth like yours, I’d imagine most things are bite sized,” Padmé retorted dryly. Kip stiffened. “I’m no Jedi either.” She had heard of the cuffs that cut a Jedi’s connection to the force, but she didn’t know if that would stop Malice seizing control or make it easier. If anything, it would at least make the Sith less dangerous. “Are you going to put those things on me or are you just going flaunt the pretty little trophy the emperor gave you,” she grumbled. 

“On second thought, I don’t think I want to put these on you,” Kip huffed. The metal squealed and groaned as he crushed it into a little ball with one hand. Padmé’s gut sank. Leaning down, he hovered his face inches from hers. “The lab is in lock down,” his hot breath whooshed over her face, making her nose scrunch in disgust. “That door,” he jutted a thumb at the entrance to the control room, “won’t open until I give the all clear. You’re trapped in here with me.”

“Well, we’d better start running the taps before you dehydrate,”she snapped.

"Right, that's enough," Kip grumbled. Padmé didn't even see him moving. With a back handed strike, he sent her plummeting to the floor. Her neck flared up with pain. The world spun around her. The ground was hard beneath her. A petty whimper escaped her lips.

'Let me out,' Malice growled deep within her mind. Padmé could feel the darkness beginning to pressure her into letting go. Despite the burning pain in her face and neck, she squeezed her eyes shut and focused on keeping her grip on control. There was no way she could let that demon free to roam the galaxy. Due to her attention being elsewhere, a shudder of fright raced through her when a huge hand wrap around her upper body. Before she knew it, she was dangling above the floor. Kip had his palm over her upper chest, his huge fingers curled over her shoulders. Padmé had no time to reorient herself. He slammed her back hard into a wall, knocking the air from her lungs. Her feet were still dangling from the ground and she desperately clawed at his fingers. Each one was the size of her arm and tipped with a deadly talon. "Do you have to do that in here?" Markus asked, his voice wavering. With the sliver she could see over Kip's brute like shoulders, she could tell the scientist was still leaning down on the controls.

"Never any time like the present," Kip chortled. Padmé was sucking in short breaths. The pressure of his palm made it impossible to get any air into her lungs. "Just you focus on closing that warp after the Jedi, and don't get the timing wrong. The emperor doesn't want them lost in warp space." 

"I'm doing it now," Markus growled. Padmé's heart sank from her body when she saw the blue light of the warp flickering out of existence. They were trapped.

Kip's eyes peered at her. He increased the pressure of his palm, leaning close to her face. "The emperor told me your weakness," his teeth gnashed together before her very eyes. Padmé's brows furrowed. Her weakness? 

Kip wound his arm back, clenching his club of a hand into a tight fist. He lashed out in a grey blur. Whipping the hand holding her up away, he punched her dead in the stomach. Padmé’s ribs cracked and snapped. A pain so intense she only saw white burst before her eyes. A shrill high-pitched wailing rang in her ears. Her toes curled in her boots and she folded over the gigantic wrist that was pressing her to the wall. A metallic taste sprung to her mouth. "The Emperor was right," Kip chuffed. "That felt like punching a toothpick." Padmé was drawing in raspy, ragged breaths. Bitter blood began pooling in her mouth, dripping out the corners of her lips. A scream of pain was silenced by the hot liquid in her throat. "Tell me little Senator, where is the rebel base?" he growled.

Padmé strained to crane her head up towards him. Warm blood was dribbling down her chin. "You'll kill me before I tell you," she spat, her voice strained and wheezy.

"That's alright," Kip growled. "The Emperor's main concern was that you died." He grabbed her again, this time flinging her across the floor. Padmé's vision was blurring. Her body flared up in agony as she landed hard on her back. Footsteps thumped closer. She could just make out the image of a grey beast towering over her. Something hard connected with her stomach once more. Her whole body flailed. Her ribs ground harshly loud one another. It felt like she had been packed with knives and shaken around. With trembling hands, she uselessly grasped at the huge foot pinning her down. In the back of her mind, she was distinctly aware of someone screaming. Her. She was screaming. The ache of her throat was masked by the agony of her abdomen. She was choking. She couldn't breath. She was dying.

'Let me out!' Malice roared from within, hammering on her minds walls. Padmé squeezed her eyes shut, fighting against the Sith's powerful pull. It was too much. The voices screaming, the overwhelming pain. Malice was prying Padmé's grip on control away finger by finger.

"Run!" Padmé cried out, a hot tear seeped from the corner of her eyes. "You're going to die!" She stared up at the hazy mess her vision detected. Kip was looming over her, his teeth glinting. A nasty laugh escaped his shark mouth. His foot was still pressing on her stomach.

"Who's going to kill us? That Jedi you were with?" Kip taunted her with a laugh. "He isn't around to protect you anymore." Malice was winning. Padmé was only holding on by a thread. 

Padmé's upper lip curled. "He wasn't here to protect me," she wheezed. "He was here to protect everyone else." Padmé's control slipped, but she wasn't flung back into the darkest recesses of her mind. She saw her arm shoot up into the air. She saw her fingers curling into her palm. She saw Kip's head completely cave in on itself with a sickening crack. Malice was in control, but Padmé was spectating. Although she was in pain, she didn't feel attached to her body at all. More like a floating consciousness in a mess of darkness. Malice flicked her hands, flinging the shark beast backwards. With a pained growl, she peeled her crushed body from the floor and shakily rose to her feet. She had to pull in short, pained breaths. Her heart was pounding. The whole room was spinning, but she could easily pick out Markus's form as he cowered against the control panel.

Malice reached out a hand, closing it over. Markus spluttered and choked. When she heard a sickening crack, Padmé's mind was jolted. Any death caused by Malice now would be because of Padmé's incompetence. Yelling in her mind, she tugged desperately at her body, begging it to bend to her will. The Sith froze, letting out an annoyed grunt. Markus was writhing in the air, gasping for breath. Padmé scanned her mind for any way she could save him. A memory tugged at her attention. Anakin told her he had managed to liberate her from Malice's control with just a kiss. Maybe that was the key. Love and compassion. So, she dove into her mind to find her sweetest of memories. Her wedding stuck out the most. The way they had been so in love as they peered into each other's glittering eyes. The sun was setting just beyond the hills. A gentle breeze blowing over them. Anakin's smiling face peering down at her. Joy like she had never seen before twinkled in his gaze. Her heart squeezed.

Just like that, Padmé seized control once more. Releasing Markus, she dropped to her hands and knees, the movement jolted her body. She hissed through her teeth, hanging her head. Letting out a wet cough, blood trickled from her lips. Pain wracked her. Clenching her hands, she tried to fight through the haze of brain fog that clouded her mind. She could hear Malice screeching and writhing within. "I'm not letting you out," Padmé choked. "I'll never let you out." Sucking in wet, raspy breaths, she lifted her head slowly. "I won't have any more blood on my hands." She growled.

Markus was sprawled across the floor. There was a sharp wheeze with every breath he took. She stared out the huge window, to where the warp hole had been. Padmé knew she needed to get it open. Even if it was the last thing she did. There was no way she would let Anakin die. Especially not when it had been her that had driven him into it in the first place. Pushing at the floor, she tried to rise to her feet. A crunch from her ribs sent her crumbling back down. A whimpering yelp escaped her lips. She tried again, with only the same results. Letting out a shout of frustration and pain, she clenched her hands into tight fists. For a final time she tried and it paid off. Even although she was haunched over and clutching at her aching stomach, she was still able to hobble to the control panel and collapse to her knees in front of it.

When she stared at the control panel, she let out a defeated cry. There were so many buttons, leavers and knobs. They all shouted at her, begged for her attention. Tears sprung to her eyes. How could she ever get the warp open when she had no idea how to work this machine? Thumping her forehead against the edge of the panel, she gritted her teeth and squeezed her eyes shut. She refused to cry. There had to be something she could do. Anything.

A harsh cough from Markus caught her attention. Turning to look over her shoulder, she saw his wide eyes watching her. "Markus, I'm so sorry for what I've done to you," her voice wavered. "I really tried to stop it. I'm so sorry."

"We're even now," he wheezed, his brows crinkling inwards. 

"Tell me how to turn this thing back on, please," she begged him. Markus turned away from her, his eyes hardening. Padmé felt ships filled with people bursting out of hyperspace above her. She recognised the mundane buzz of the mind-controlled clones. Gritting her teeth, she hissed. "The empire is here now. I can feel them," she told him.

Markus's eyes widened. "They weren't supposed to show up here," he hissed, frowning deeply.

"They are going to take everything," Padmé told him harshly. "Please, help me get this warp open. Don't let betrayal be your final legacy," she pleaded him.

"Alright," he sighed, closing his eyes over. Padmé felt hope stir within her. "All the data has been set, so it's just a case of flipping a few switches. Press the little blue button that has an 'I' beneath it." Padmé followed his command, seeking out the button and pushing it. She hummed to let him know she'd done it. "Now push the big lever away from you until it clicks." Padmé found a long lever with a glossy handle. Gripping it, she pushed at it as hard as her broken body would allow. Her arms couldn't reach far enough from her kneeling position on the ground. Growling beneath her breath, she planted her feet on the ground and used all the power her legs would allow to thrust herself up and shove the handle into position. A loud shout of pain escaped her lips. The corner of the console dug into her stomach. Before her very eyes, the blackness of space was illuminated with a beautiful, blue glow. It was iridescent like a lightsaber. Just like Anakin's lightsaber. 

The corners of her lips tugged up in victory, but she didn't have long to enjoy it. Her body gave out and she fell backwards onto the ground with a hard thump. Her throat ached as she cried out in pain once more. Every single one of her breaths was raspy and wet. Her chest rose unevenly. Every movement caused her shattered ribs to grind on each other and churn her insides. Pain wracked her so terribly that her hands seized and spasmed. Once again hot blood rose in her throat, forcing her to choke air past it. Scarlet beads began dribbling out the corners of her lips. A tremble shook her from head to toe. Despite how cold she was, she could feel sweat beading her hairline. "Padmé, I'm so sorry," Markus spoke so painfully quietly that she wasn't even sure she had heard him. 

Craning her neck around, she caught sight of him. They were lying in opposite directions, their shoulders nearly touching. If she lifted her head, which brought her immense pain, she could just about see his face. "It's okay," she murmured. "I understand why you did it."

"Not just betraying you," he wheezed. "That jedi. Skywalker." Padmé's brows crinkled. "The moment I saw you two, I could tell from the look on his face you were together but... having problems." She barked a weak laugh. That was a bit of an understatement. "I used that to get him out of the picture like the Emperor told me to. I used you," he explained. Padmé's jaw clenched and she closed her eyes over, but she wasn't really surprised.

"I think I'm just as much to blame for that as you," she grumbled. "I was more than happy to go along with it." Her face twisted slightly as the memory of watching him leave sprung to her mind once more. Her bottom lip trembled as she realised she was probably never going to see him again. Biting down on her lip, she pushed those emotions from her mind. It this was to be her last few moments alive, she didn’t want to be sad. She didn’t want to be happy either. She just wanted peace.

"I still regret worsening your fighting. I'm sorry," he told her as genuinely as his crackling, fading voice would allow.

"It's alright," she mumbled, her eyes opening to stare at the metallic ceiling above. Air vents crisis crossed its length. "There's nothing that can change it now. It's in the past. Let's just die without regret." That earned her a huffing scoff. A pained silence rang between them. "Do you remember when you proposed to me?" she asked him gently. He grunted in response, she could feel him fading fast. "We promised that when we died, we were doing it together," she let out a bitter chuckle.

"I told you not to take your promises so lightly," he murmured, his voice hardly a whisper.

"You certainly did," she sighed. Padmé felt his life slipping back into the force. Closing her eyes, she fought to suppress the way her chin wobbled. Taking a shaky breath, she groaned as she pushed herself up onto one elbow. Markus's lifeless eyes were staring blankly at the ceiling. Reaching over, she let out a few pained wheezes as she closed his eyelids over. Once more she limply fell back down onto her back. Staring up at the pale ceiling, her eyes closed over. Markus's death burned her soul because she knew she was about to fulfil their promise.


	18. Travello

Crouching low to the ground, Anakin ran through the tall halls of the Kamino clone factory. Red lights flashed repeatedly. An alarm blared in his ears. Obi-Wan was running by his side. Rebel clones were running behind them, a red stripe painted across their chest plates. Troopers were buzzing around the place like angry hornets. Their armour clunked with every movement. The stench of burning rubber was thick in the air. They had barely managed to crash their ships on the laboratory before they were blown from the sky. Now they were stuck, running through the hallways like rodents.

Anakin's chest was huffing, his muscles ached and his skin was slick with sweat. The lightsaber ignited in his hand hummed aggressively. Ever since the warp closed he had a leaden feeling of foreboding weighing down his stomach. They had walked into a trap, which meant the warp probably wasn't going to be reactivated. So, they were going to need some other way around the huge, imperial blockade. 

As the Jedi rounded a sharp corner, they ran head on into a small troop of soldiers. Grunting beneath his breath, he flicked away all the blaster bolts with his lightsaber. Obi-Wan and him delved into motion, incapacitating the soldiers in any way they could that didn't result in death. The rebel troopers with them had their guns set to stun. Within a few moments, they were standing over a pile of unconscious clones, huffing for breath. The wailing alarms were grating on his nerves. The two Jedi traded a look. Obi-Wan's hair was disheveled and his face tinged red. There were a few scorch marks on his brown tunic. Once again, the Jedi began running through the hallways. Obi-Wan lifted his wrist to his mouth, pressing down on his communicator. "Master Windu, how much longer are you needing us to act as decoys?" he puffed.

"The gas has been completed. Get back here so we can find a way off the planet," Windu grumbled down the communicator. The Jedi nodded to each other.

"We're on our way," Obi-Wan responded sharply. They tore through the halls, avoiding all the troopers they could and slipping beneath the radar. Before long, they were ducking into a tiny little lab in the corner of the building. Fumes overpowered their senses, nipping at their eyes. Blinding lights shone down from above. A huge, circular table took up the majority of the room. Long, metallic arms hung from the ceiling above it. Long tubes with colourful liquids were scattered all over the surface. Ra-Dan was scampering around the room, packing large capsules into several chunky backpacks. A few troopers with red stripes over their chests stood to attention, training their guns on the door. A few more freed clones poured in behind the Jedi. Mace was leaning against the wall, his arms crossed and his dark eyes watching the Kaminoan. The master turned to greet the other two Jedi as they crept in, nodding his head and standing to his feet.

"Any plans for escape?" Obi-Wan asked as the three Jedi congregated together in a little huddle by the door. The capsules were clanking together as Ra-Dan packed them. 

"Well, I scanned the upper atmosphere and it turns out the warp has reopened," Mace told them, his face stern and his features taught. "It seemed to have reappeared not long after we arrived." 

Anakin's brows furrowed. "If this was a trap, why would they leave the warp open?"

"Maybe there is something even nastier waiting on the other side," Obi-Wan hummed, stroking his beard. "A risk I think we have no choice but to take." Anakin's jaw clenched. This mission was very important. They couldn't afford to screw it up. Getting caught was out of the picture.

"Can you contact Mrs Amidala?" Mace asked, staring intently at Anakin. "She should be able to tell us what is happening on the other side of the warp." Anakin's brows shot up. Throughout the duration of his time on Kamino, he had completely suppressing any thought of Padmé for fear his anger would throw him off balance. His stomach sank. If they had encountered resistance here, the chances were that the imperials had taken over the Muun colony as well.

"I can try," Anakin responded, his brows pulling together. He didn't know if he'd be able to reach her, not with their relationship so badly damaged. Closing his eyes, he dipped into the flow of the force. Life burst into colour around him. He could sense all the troopers racing around the laboratories, the huge ships patrolling the skies, the hungry creatures sailing through the depths of the ocean. Expanding his mind, he scoured the force for Padmé. He couldn't even catch a glimmer of her light. There was nothing. He should have at least been able to feel her anger towards him. The galaxy was cold. Anakin's chest tightened, the colour drained from his face. Peeling open his eyes and dragging himself from the force, he saw the two Jedi masters staring at him with concerned eyes. They could probably sense Anakin's distress. "I can't feel her," Anakin murmured, a cold feeling coursing through him.

"Does that mean the Sith is out?" Mace asked, cocking a brow. 

"I would be able to sense Malice," he admitted shaking his head. Fear was welling up within him. The two Jedi masters traded pained looks. Anakin's mind was still processing what he was feeling. Gone. She couldn't be gone.

"When we get through to the other side of the warp, I think it would be best if you and our remaining troops escorted Ra-Dan and the gas back to Dagobah," Obi-Wan hummed softly, glancing warily at Anakin. "I think we need to find out what has happened to the Senator." Anakin knew what that meant. His old master understood that he was going to go after Padmé and there was nothing he could do about it. So, they were doing it together.

"Alright," Mace grumbled, folding his arms into his sleeves. "I suggest we use the imperial ships in the hangar to make our escape. It will give us more leeway to make a stealthy getaway."

Everything that happened next, happened in a blur. As they cleared out the troopers in the hangar and stole ships, all Anakin could think about was her. Padmé. Even as they were sailing through the Kamino skies amidst a lashing of rain and fending off a hoard of enemy ships, he just kept scanning the force for any indication she was still out there. It was only after they had slipped into the warp under the enemy nose, that his mind really began to ground itself.

As he sat forwards in the tiny cockpit, his head was pushed into his hands and his elbows pressed against the flight control panel. The blue glimmer of the warp tunnel was shining into the darkness of his ship. A T.I.E. fighter, he believed. They were a new model. It rocked around him, letting out an obnoxious, low, groaning noise. He pushed his palms into his eye sockets. Anakin knew he would never be able to feel anything outside of the warp, but it didn’t stop him from chewing his lip when the galaxy was quiet.

Anakin's chest was tightening. He drew in deep breaths to try and focus himself. Once again, he had let his emotions dominate him when he had left Padmé on Kamino. The anger and pride he had within him made him turn his back on her. As a Jedi, he shouldn't have allowed her to get under his skin. Now he had a sickening feeling that when he returned to the colony, he was going to find something he didn't like. Something he could have prevented if he just hadn't left. 

Terror ripped at him internally. His inability to sense Padmé could only really mean one thing. Her spirit had returned to the force. Anakin bit down hard on his tongue. The Jedi had been on Kamino for over half a rotation. So much could have happened to her in that time. If she was dead, he had no idea what he would do. Especially with the way they had left things. That couldn't be their last goodbye. It couldn't. Sucking in a deep breath, he curled his fingers into his scalp. Padmé wasn't dead. It simply wasn't true. The moment he got to the colony, he would touch down and find her somewhere within the fortress or learn that the imperials were just holding her captive. She wasn't dead. He wouldn't let himself think she was.

The duration of the rest of their flight was painfully slow. Anakin's legs bounced and he kneaded constantly at his forehead. Pressure was building behind his eyes and his breaths felt warm in his chest. Obi-Wan and Mace's ships flew ahead of him. Their dark shadows bouncing around the tunnel. When they finally burst back into normal space, Anakin's immediately scoured to force for Padmé. There was nothing. Not even a feint glimmer. He let out a whimper. A cold tremor wracked his body.

An imperial cruiser was floating in orbit around the huge, rocky planet. The fortress was still standing strong amidst the cratered surface. Huge storm clouds were boiling in the skies. Anakin could feel that there were hundreds of troopers swarming the fortress. Clenching his hands tightly into fists, he felt resolution settle within him. He was going to find Padmé, wether she wanted him to or not.


	19. Lightening Strikes

Anakin peered through the slitted grating below him. A rush of musky, warm air blew over him. Obi-Wan was crouched by his side in the long, dark air vent. Getting access to it hadn't been easy, but now the clones were being controlled, Jedi mind tricks could work wonders. Through the grate, he could make out a few storm troopers milling around the expansive control room that was used to operate the warp. The only light came from the blue glow that shone through the rectangular windows, illuminating their white armour sapphire. The darkside was covering the fortress in a thick haze, but it was at its strongest here. Nothing seemed to be out of the ordinary, but he was very high up and couldn't make out exactly what was going on below him. The troopers were standing in front of the control panel, talking about the Muun. It seemed that upon their invasion, the colonists had taken to locking themselves in the underground region of the fortress. Anakin supposed that after he found Padmé, liberating the Muun would be next.

Looking back over his shoulder at his former master, Anakin lifted a brow. Obi-Wan nodded. Anakin delicately lifted the grate, sliding it silently to the side and dropped down to the floor with intense speed. Using the force to cushion his landing, he settled like a feather onto the ground. The troopers were none the wiser. All three of them were staring out of the glass window at the blue glow from the warp, pondering how they were supposed to turn it off. Obi-Wan landed just as gently as Anakin and the pair kept themselves low as they crept towards the troopers. "I don't understand how we are meant to know to turn this thing off when the head scientist is dead," one of the troopers complained loudly, throwing his arms up in exasperation. Anakin's brows furrowed. If they had killed Markus, who they evidently needed, what chance did Padmé have of being kept alive? Swatting the thought from his mind, he slunk closer to them through the blue gloom. The troopers' backs were still turned.

The Jedi struck like synchronised snakes, pulling two of the troopers down and silencing them with hard blows to the head. The third one whipped around, readying his blaster. He didn't even get to shout an exclamation of shock before Anakin punched him square in the face, knocking him out like his brothers. Using the force, Anakin lifted all three and lay them in a little pile in the corner of the room.

Now that he was down on the ground, he noticed there were some changes in the room. Dark liquid had dried in a trail of spots and streaks from the centre of the floor and leading up to the wide control panel. The feint tang of blood lingered in the air. Unease was simmering his mind. Sucking in a deep breath, he moved to a panel that was cut into one of the walls. It's keys glowed intensely and it's screen gave out a harsh blue glow. "Are you looking at the security holos?" Obi-Wan asked from where he stood by the control panel, his arms folded into his cloak that was marred with scorch marks. Anakin pressed a few buttons on the panel. The large doors that acted as entrances to the room lowered slowly, locking them in. It would give them more time if they were located by the enemy to escape.

"In our original plan of events, Padmé and I were going to be here when you used the warp to make sure it all went smoothly," Anakin sighed, punching a few things into the screen before him. "Everything went wrong just after we came out of the tunnel, so I think this would be the best place to start," he answered. Obi-Wan let out a low hum of agreement and leant back against the control panel.

After he pressed on one more button, he turned around to look back at the room. There were life sized, blue holograms all over the room. The majority were Muun scientists that were slowly filtering out of the entrances. Markus was standing by the control panel, glaring at one of the screens before him. Anakin's eyes scanned the holos until he found her. Padmé. She was standing at the back of the room. Despite wearing a plastic smile that crinkled her features, it wasn't reflected in her eyes. They were dull. Lifeless. Her hair was pulled back into a tight braid, simply accentuating her emotionless stare. Even the catsuit she wore seemed to be prosaic and doll like from it monotone gleam. It startled him a little. Never had he seen her look so devoid of life.

Walking to Obi-Wan's side, Anakin stopped to glance at Markus. He was clenching his hands, his bottom lip wobbling. "I'm not getting a good feeling about this," Obi-Wan commented as he stroked at his beard. Anakin leaned down on the panel next to his master. Although he didn't voice his opinion, he was feeling the same thing. Padmé wrapped her arms around herself as she watched the last of the Muun empty out of the room. Turning to Markus, she stalked towards him cautiously, her head tilted in concern. On her approach, Anakin watched her intently and carved every last bit of information he could into his mind. Her holo was glowing like a blue ghost, flickering every so often.

"Are you alright, Markus?" Padmé asked, standing just a few meters away from them. Markus lifted his head to see her, pain glimmering in his eyes. Anakin's stomach churned.

"Padmé, I-" he was silenced before he could finish the sentence. A loud clanging filled the air. Ghostly images of the doors lowering into lockdown were displayed over the physical door. A hulking Karkarodon male sauntered in with a wide grin that displayed numerous rows of jagged teeth. Anakin's chest tightened, his eyes flicked continuously between all three holos. They engaged in conversation. Padmé straightened up, her jaw tightening. She spoke with both men, reprimanding Markus for betraying her and flaunting her defiance in the shark-man's face. Anakin was guiltily glad when the bounty hunter crunched the cuffs in his palm. He would be no match for Malice.

"I forgot how much zest our Padmé has," Obi-Wan murmured quietly, stroking at his beard. Recently, it had mostly been Malice who dealt with mortal danger. Padmé had less opportunity to display her sharp tongue. Unlike Obi-Wan however, Anakin had experienced its lashings many times over. Thus, he could never forget.

It became very evident when Kip had grown weary of her defiance. With a monstrous hand, he knocked her clean to the ground. Anakin went ridged. Every muscle in his body tensed. It took all the self control he had to remain pinned to the spot. There was nothing he could do now. No matter how much he wanted to change it, it was in the past and the past couldn't be reached. The violence only grew worse and Anakin found his chest heaving. Anger burned so brightly within him that he couldn't think of anything else other than how much he wanted to fillet that shark. Still, he stood stick straight by the control panel. His hands were clenched so tightly they creaked. 

When Padmé took her first blow to the stomach, he twitched in on himself and squeezed his eyes shut. That weakness Kip spoke of was only there because of Anakin. It was him who had crippled her first, then time and time again. He was partly responsible for the pain she was suffering through. Every scream hit him like a punch to the gut. Every whimper like a slap to the face. "Where is Malice?" Obi-Wan spoke calmly, but there was a strained pain in his voice.

Anakin tore his eyes open. Padmé was struggling against the shark fist, taking in sharp, wheezy breaths. Even still, her brows were pulled taught with focus. "Look at her," Anakin answered with a growl. "She's holding Malice in. She would rather go through all of this than let the Sith out." Guilt burned inside of him. He should have been here. Then she wouldn't have had to worry. She wouldn't be hurting so badly. Padmé looked horrified when she saw Markus turning off the warp. It wounded Anakin that throughout all of this she was still so concerned about the Jedi.

When she was thrown across the room, a sharp hiss of air escaped Anakin's lips. Never before had he felt so useless. So helpless. If only he'd been here to stop it. Now all he could do was watch. "Perhaps we shouldn't be watching this," Obi-Wan spoke softly, his voice cracking with emotion. "We both know what is going to happen." 

"No," Anakin shook his head sternly. Obi-Wan stared at him with concern crinkled eyes. "There is always a chance, no matter how improbable, that she did survive. We can't give up on her."

Anakin saw Padmé's terror as she begged the other holos to flee. Kip laughed in her face, which gave Anakin grim satisfaction because he knew Malice would make sushi of him. Then she said words that cut him down to the bone, 'he wasn't here to protect me, he was here to protect everyone else.' Though her words were true, if stabbed him a little too close to the heart. Especially as he watched her writhing in pain, knowing he could have been there to prevent it if he had just stuck to his post. If he had just tempered his anger.

It was a relief to watch Malice dispatch of Kip with a flick of her fingers. Although they were blue in the hologram, he could see the feint glow of her Sith eyes. Just before she crushed Markus completely, Padmé somehow seized control and fell to the ground in a broken little bundle. Anakin wanted nothing more than to run to her, to pick her up off the floor and race to find help, but he couldn't because she wasn't there. Not really. Instead he had to sit and endure. For all the pain she went through because of him, it was more than fair he had to watch. It was his punishment.

Despite being damaged beyond repair, Padmé still tried to pick herself up from the floor. Somehow she managed it. Anakin followed her every movement with his eyes. The blood that fell from her lips splashed down to the dark marks on the floor. He had never seen her look so defeated as the moment her eyes landed on the warp's console. After a brief discussion with Markus, she found out how to turn the warp back on. 

It suddenly struck Anakin how wrong he had been. He'd thought she was willing to risk lives because of her grudge against him. That wasn't true. Here she was letting herself crumble to pieces to open that warp and still she was holding Malice back to keep the colonists safe. He gritted his teeth and rubbed at his face as she collapsed back onto the ground beside Markus. As they spoke softly to one another, Anakin was shocked to hear his name and even more shocked when he realised Markus had been playing them all along. Padmé had warned him not to fall into that trap, yet he had thrown that warning back in her face.

When the Markus died and Padmé was left on her own, he couldn't keep himself restrained to one spot any longer. Shifting across the floor, he gently sat down on the ground beside her. She was blinking slowly. A wet rasp accompanied every breath. He could see her chest was rising unevenly. There was nothing behind her eyes but hollowness. "Anakin, you don't need to watch her die," Obi-Wan spoke softly, his voice cracking. "Don't torture yourself like that."

"I do," Anakin snapped back. "I need to." 

"Malice, be quiet," Padmé murmured, closing her eyes over. Anakin watched a a dark bead of blood rolled down her cheek. "I don't care how much you tantrum, you are not getting out." There was a dark certainty in her voice that made Anakin's stomach tighten. He guessed she was right. She didn't need him to control Malice anymore. She must have figured it out how to do it on her own. "I have nothing," Padmé let out a bitter laugh. "What exactly do you have to live for?" Anakin's heart sank. She didn't think that surely? "Revenge," Padmé sighed, her brows crinkling. "Then why didn't you just work with the Jedi when they asked you to?" Obi-Wan lowered himself to the floor, leaning back against the control panel. A forlorn look of pain lingered in his eyes. "Oh, I understand," Padmé spoke bitterly. "You're everything dark. That includes pride." There was a beat of silence and her expression twisted. "Qui-Gon never meant for us to be split Malice. It was just unfortunate. Maybe if you had been more cooperative, we wouldn't be in this situation in the first place," she grumbled. Obi-Wan and Anakin's eyes met. Malice would have been an invaluable asset.

"The empire is here now anyway. There is no hope. Give up," she grumbled again. Anakin's heart sunk low. The resignation in her eyes scared him. "I'm doing us both a favour anyway. I don't want to drain away to an empty shell and I certainly don’t want to join with you. I'm sure you don't want to go slowly senile either." Anakin winced internally, hanging his head forwards. Several moments passed. Once more Padmé frowned. "I hadn't thought of it like that," she murmured. Part of Anakin really wanted know what Malice said, the rest of him knew it didn't matter anymore. 

"No Malice. It's over. I'm done," her voice cracked as she shook her head. His bottom lip quivered. He thought he'd see time travel before he saw her giving up. "The only useful thing I can do is drag you back into the force with me. That's one less stain on the galaxy," she snorted. "Perhaps it will indirectly get your revenge as well. Maybe the Jedi will be able strike down the empire without us burdening them anymore." 

Anakin's eyes widened. A burden? Padmé was many things, but never a burden. The look of horror on Obi-Wan's face told him that they were both thinking the same thing. "No..." he murmured, reaching out a hand to her face. His fingers just slipped through her blue skin. "That's not true Padmé."

Padmé's brow furrowed, her eyes snapped open. "It is true," she spoke harshly. Anakin jolted, his eyes widening and his hand hovering over her face. Her eyes flicked towards him, landing perfectly on his own. His heart stuttered. Lifting a quivering, blue hand, she gently traced his wrist. That dark gaze of hers followed the movement of her fingers with shocked fascination. He could have sworn he felt the heat from her touch. Padmé stared back up at him, her brows still furrowed. "Anakin?" she whispered. The two Jedi traded a bewildered look. Their mouths hung open.

"Padmé?" He responded, his voice a lot clearer than hers. 

Padmé peered at him cautiously from the floor, her brows pulling down. "Is that you, Malice?" her voice quivered and he could see water collecting in her eyes. "Are you doing this to hurt me?" she whispered. "Even for you, this is cruel," she growled, turning away from him and scrunching her face in pain.

"No, no, no it's me Padmé," Anakin assured her vehemently. A spark of hope rose within him. If they could speak to one another, maybe they could figure out a way for her to survive. "I'm here."

"No, you're not," she bit back, opening her watery eyes to glare up at him. Anakin reared back slightly. "I watched you leave." His shoulders dropped. Cold pain pulsed through him. "The worst part was, I knew then that it was the last time I would see you go." A single tear rolled from the corner of her eye. Anakin was dumbstruck. She'd known they would never see each other again? Why hadn't he felt it? That must have been the reason for her upset at the start of the holo recording. She knew something bad was going to happen. Why hadn't she told him?

"Padmé," his voice cracked. He reached for her once again, but his hands just slipped straight through her. "I don't know how to prove it to you, and I don't understand how, but I am here. I'm with you,"

Padmé's chin trembled, a few more tears fell from her eyes. "You're not," she choked out. "I'm just getting delusional."

"I'm here," he shifted closer to her, pointing at himself.

"I wish you were," her voice was shaking. "I really wish you were." His heart shattered. "There are so many things I didn't tell you Ani." Tears pooled into his eyes as he stared down at her. 

"You can tell me now," he murmured softly, his heart aching. He was realising that all he could do for Padmé now was make her feel less alone in death. All that power and strength he took pride on was absolutely useless. Not matter how much he wanted to help her. He couldn't.

Padmé stared up at him thoughtfully, emotion still collecting in her eyes. "The shorts, I didn't take them off because I collapsed before I could." Anakin shook his head slowly. Itchy tears streamed down his cheeks. "Fighting with you took the last of what I had," she admitted. Her voice was still painfully quiet. "I didn't wake you up that morning because I felt guilty I'd kept you up half the night beforehand." Every word she spoke drove a nail even further into his chest. "I had a feeling you'd be called to arms and I didn't want you to do it on a partially filled tank."

"Why didn't you tell me this?" Anakin whimpered, wiping a tear from his cheek. If she'd just told the truth then all of this could have been avoided. She wouldn't be dying.

"Anger," she responded softly, her voice was growing weaker, her lips twitching down. "It infuriated me you really thought I would be so willing to cast aside other people's lives for something as petty as our argument. So I didn't think it was worth telling you the truth." Anakin tightly grasped at the fabric over his chest. Padmé’s eyes were drooping and although she was fighting to keep them open, it was evident she was loosing.

"I'm sorry," he whispered quietly. He'd jumped the gun. He'd completely overreacted. He'd still been too caught up in her attempts to irritate her that he had been so willing to place blame. Once again, his emotions had dominated him.

"You know, when I woke up you were holding onto my ankles so tightly I thought you were going to break them," she told him, a bemused smile playing across her lips. For one of the first times that day, he saw real emotion glittering in her eyes. "I couldn't figure out wether it was because you were afraid Malice would take over in the night or it was the strange compulsion you had to always be touching me when we were sleeping." Anakin pulled his head back slightly. When Padmé had that impenetrable wall in her mind that blocked out the force, he had always liked to feel the heat of her skin to remind himself she was still there because he couldn't feel her in the force. With her shutting him out, the old habit must have resurfaced. A cold feeling wrapped around him when he realised he was never going to feel her again. Not the brilliant light of hers or the supple softness of her skin. The closest he would ever get to her again was this conversation. Once more his face twisted and tears leaked out of his eyes.

"Padmé, please don't die," he begged her despite already knowing it was too late. 

"No, don't ask that of me," Padmé hummed, her voice was crackling and straining with effort. “Don't ask me to do something we both know I can't." Her eyes were glazing over. Anakin sniffled, staring down at her helplessly. "I know you aren't really here, but I want you to know," her voice was hardly audible. "I love you Ani and I always will." Her eyes fluttered shut and her head lolled to one side. Anakin let out a pained cry, lifting his eyes to the ceiling. Tears were streaming down his face. She was gone.


	20. Thunder Follows

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was writing a nice, wholesome chapter for another fic I have in the works and then boom! I’m crying and the chapter is really sad. Why does this always happen?

Anakin was enraged like never before. He was storming through the halls of the fortress, slicing through every imperial in his way. Troopers, officers and droids alike. He didn't know how many he had killed, he'd stopped counting. The burning fury in his veins urged him to keep going until every last one of those traitorous fools were dead. Bodies littered the floor behind him. The scent of charred flesh was pungent in the air. Batting away their blaster fire was child's play, crushing their throats even easier. They were completely helpless to his power. 

In his mind, all he could see was Padmé's head finally lolling to one side. The image of her so resigned to death was scarred into his brain. The sound of her voice slowly fading away played in a loop in his mind. She was dead. The scum before him had been instrumental in her death, so he was going to make sure each and every one of them suffered like she had. He was going to purge their filth from the galaxy.

Anakin's anger wasn't just aimed at them, but also himself. He was just as much to blame for his death as they were. That fury scalded him so fiercely that he had to keep himself off it, lest it melt him to the bone. It propelled him to go faster, strike harder. It made his aggression skyrocket. 

Just as Anakin finished clearing out a long corridor filled with troopers, he heard footsteps racing up to him from behind. A calm, but deeply upset, presence was bearing down on him fast. Swirling around in a rush of black fabric, he levelled his blue lightsaber with the fast approaching Obi-Wan. The Jedi master skidded to a halt a bodies length away, his wide and horrified eyes stared at all the mutilated corpses around them. A brown backpack was hanging from his shoulders. Something weighted rattled within. Blinding light shone down on them and bouncing off the glossy floor and walls. Anakin could see a very abstract reflection of himself on the wall. "Anakin, stop this. They are not our enemy," Obi-Wan spoke in a rush, horror evident in his voice.

"Yes they are," Anakin growled, the grip on his sabre growing dangerously tight. "Padmé is dead because of them," he yelled, gesturing at the white, armoured, dead bodies and lurching forwards. There were blasters scattered all over the floor.

"They are just as much victims as she was," Obi-Wan snapped. "They have no choice but to serve the empire, Padmé knew what she was getting herself into when she agreed to this assignment." He threw his arms up into the air. Anakin's top lip curled. That didn't mean her death was okay. It didn't mean they weren't still partly responsible for her death. "What would Padmé think of all this?" Obi-Wan asked, his brows shooting up. Anakin clenched his jaw, straightening up. She would be horrified, that was for sure. A glimmer of guilt rose within him as he stared at the glossy visor of a trooper's helmet. They were men he'd fought beside. Men he'd sworn to save. Anakin dropped his lightsaber to the ground, lifting his hands and grasping handfuls of his hair. He turned away from his master, letting out a strangled cry. 

Anakin pressed his hands against the wall, hanging his head between them. Heat blushed his eyes. "I tried to end things between Padmé and I," he spoke in a whisper. Obi-Wan's shock jarred him through the force. "You were right, my attachment to her has clouded my judgement and she was the one who payed the price, time and time again." He curled his fingers into the wall, his voice was growing louder with every word. "I tried to stop it happening again, but it didn't work," he hissed between his teeth. Lifting his head to stare at his former master, his vision was hazy with tears. "Now she is dead," Anakin spat, lifting himself off the wall and pacing the breadth of the corridor. "She died alone. She died with no hope. She died thinking she was a burden to us. To me," he aggressively pointed towards himself. Obi-Wan watched him with saddened eyes, his arms tense by his sides. "The worst of it all, is that it's my fault," Anakin slapped at his chest.

"Don't put that on yourself Anakin," Obi-Wan's voice was calm and steadfast but there was an undertone of anguish and concern.

Anakin whipped around to face his master, a tear tracking down his cheek. "I should have been here Obi-Wan!" he shouted, throwing his arms out. "She needed me and I wasn't there!" More tears dribbled down his cheeks. "No matter what I do, I'm always hurting her," he lurched towards Obi-Wan, grasping at the fabric over his chest. He felt a stab at his heart when he realised his unreliability would never hurt her again because it had already killed her.

Obi-Wan crept closer, his arms reaching tenderly towards him, "Anakin, you are only human. You mustn't blame this on yourself. Padmé wouldn't want you to hurt yourself like that." He placed heavy hands on his former apprentice’s shoulders. "The only way you can honour her sacrifice is by doing what she would want you to. We have to rescue the Muun she fought so hard to protect from Malice."

Anakin swiped away the tears on his face. The Muun. None of his guilt was eased and he could still hear Padmé's screams of pain echoing in his ears, but he had found a target to distract himself with. He was going to free these Muun people and this whole base, then he was going to kill the emperor.

*

Not much later, the two Jedi found themselves standing in front of a tall, wide door. There were unconscious troopers all around their feet. A tiny control panel was slotted into the wall. Behind them, a long corridor stretched almost as long as their eyes could see. This portion of the base was gloomy and dark. The lights were yellowed and flickered. Obi-Wan began pressing a few buttons on the control panel. The feint lines in his features looked more prominent than ever. A weary pain haunted his eyes. Anakin could tell what his master was feeling. He was tired of loosing people. He was tired of watching everyone they cared about die or loose faith. More than anything, Obi-Wan just wanted peace.

With the pain of Padmé's death fresh in his mind, Anakin was doing a lot of reflecting. He couldn't help but wonder how things would be different if he hadn't tried to end their relationship. Misery swelled within him. What was he supposed to do now? He felt empty without her. For so long she had been dominating his mind, his affection. He had a feeling that she would still captivate him for the rest of his life, even us she wasn’t in it. "Give up imperial scum!" a heavily accented voice shouted through a speaker in the access panel, startling them both. "You may take our lives but we will never work for you!"

"We are not imperials," Obi-Wan explained softly, lowering himself to the access panel. "We are Jedi and we can help free you." There was a heavy beat of silence. Obi-Wan glanced over at Anakin, but he was glaring intently at the door. 

"The same Jedi that brought this mess down upon us?" The voice hissed aggressively. The Muun accent was choppy and nasally. 

"It was your boss who sold us out," Anakin snapped, his head flicking down to the communicator. Before he could say anything further, Obi-Wan lifted a hand and silenced him. Anakin let out a grunt of fury, leering aggressively at the floor and crossing his arms firmly over his chest.

"We can help to free you," Obi-Wan reiterated. The backpack he wore on his back clinked slightly. "We do need your cooperation for that." Once again there were several more moments of silence,

"All right," the Muun grunted. The grand doors before them slid open. Within was complete and utter darkness. A tall, Muun man squinted against the light and beckoned them in with long, spindly fingers. The Jedi traded a look and stepped into the gloom. The doors clicked shut behind them. They were in a cavernous dining hall. Tables and chairs had been pushed to the edges of the room, leaving a huge open space in the centre of the glossy floor. It was lit only by a few green, glow lamps that were scattered across the room along side the clumps of Muun people. There were hundreds of them. Some were terribly wounded and on their death beds, others were huddled in little bunches and holding each other close to fend off the freezing air. It was so cold, it drew the air from Anakin’s lungs and made his breath rise up in plumes around his face. 

After a painful moment of silence from the Muun, they began speaking amongst one another. They whispered and murmured, glancing back towards the Jedi. "The imperials cut off the power to this portion of the building," the man who beckoned them in explained, gesturing to the green lamps. "The only part that still has functionality is the door."

A young Muun woman approached them cautiously, tilting her head to one side. The man wrapped his arm around her shoulders, sending a stab of pain to Anakin's chest. "Did you come to our colony with the Senator?" the woman asked softly. Anakin gritted his teeth, squeezed his eyes shut and took in a shaky breath.

"We did," Obi-Wan responded softly, glancing at his former padawan. Anakin peeled his eyes open just in time to see the pair of Muun trade a grave look. Suspicion sparked within Anakin. What did they know?

"Come with me," the woman gestured, leading them into the depths of the room. Anakin followed her with no hesitation, Obi-Wan was a little further behind. She took them to the very back of the hall, where a single green lantern fended off the consuming darkness. There were hardly any Muun there. The only sign of life was a single, shadowy shape that rested on the floor. The closer they got, the tighter Anakin's chest grew.

When they arrived at the lantern, the woman crouched down beside it. Anakin stared at the dark silhouette and his heart jumped into his mouth. It was Padmé. He dropped to his knees by her side. Even in the green light, he could see her skin was grey. They blood on her face had vanished and was replaced by deep, dark shadows. A fine glimmer of moisture coated her skin. A thick blanket had been placed over her and pulled right up to her chin. Her hair lay like a halo around her head. With her eyes closed over, she was unnaturally still and her body completely lifeless. Obi-Wan halted behind Anakin's shoulder, pulling in a deep gasp. "Is she alive?" he asked the woman, a glimmer of doubtful hope accenting his tone.

Anakin reached two human fingers out, gently placing them against her neck. He could feel a feint pulse. A rush of emotion coursed through him. A wide smile cut his face and tears collected in his eyes. "She is alive," the woman responded softly. Reaching out with the force, he could feel her warm light once more. It was incredibly feint. There was hardly any life left in her body. It was like a burning match head at the centre of an artic tundra. Leaning down, he pressed his forehead against hers. It was deathly cold beneath his touch. This close, he could hear the wet rasp of her breath. Despite his joy, a little fear rose within him. "We don't think she has long," the Muun woman spoke, "but we've been doing our best to prolong her life."

"How did you get into the control room?" Obi-Wan asked, his brows furrowed.

"It's us Muun who run the lab. Our technicians know every nook and cranny and could overwrite any system. Even the lockdown," the male Muun explained reaching a hand down and squeezing the female's shoulder.

Anakin lifted himself up, firm resolution settling within him. "Thank you," he turned to them dipping his head. "The cruiser in orbit will have a medical bay we can use to keep her alive," he hummed, pressing his hands onto his knees. "After we free you and take control of it, that's where we will take her."

"How do you plan on taking control of an imperial cruiser?" The man asked, his eyes going wide.

Obi-Wan and Anakin traded a playful smile. "We have our ways," Obi-Wan chirped.


	21. Control

Anakin felt the shuttle jostle as he set it down in the imperial hangar. In the cavernous room before him he could see hundreds of troopers buzzing around like a disturbed wasps nest. Their ships were all over the place, but organised neatly into docking bays. Their guns were raised as they approached the shuttle. Obi-Wan patted Anakin's back gently. "Have fun," he chuckled, the pack on his back clinking with the movement.

The younger Jedi rolled his eyes. Rising to his feet, he exited the shuttle and walked out into the swarm of troopers. The moment they laid eyes on him, they were firing off deadly blaster bolts. Anakin whipped out his lightsaber. It fizzled with every bolt he batted away. The troopers were shouting. The hum of the hangar evolved into a clamour. There were flashes of light all around him, sparks flew up into the air. Loud booms battered his eardrums. 

Breaking off into a sprint, Anakin delved into the maze of corridors that split off from the hangar. Circles of intense light shone behind the grated walls. The floor was so glossy that he could see the cold, blue reflection of the lightsaber blade in his hand. A hoard of troopers chased after him, their boots clunking against the floor. The majority of bolts whizzed past Anakin and he batted the others away effortlessly. The guns pewed and fired in an overwhelming tsunami of noise. For just a moment, he thought he was back on the battle field. They were also shouting down their comms in code he did not recognise. 

Reaching out with the force, Anakin yanked a metal grating from the wall and slammed it into their ranks. The troopers toppled like pins, but a few persisted. Keeping his head down, he sprinted through the hallways. With his blade activated, he continually was diverting the bolts down to the floor. The light formed a streak in his peripheral vision. For a long time, he remained like this. Dodging through jumble of corridors he knew well and slowly collecting a large following of troopers. Although he safely thinned them out where he could, it wasn't enough to keep their numbers down.

Eventually Anakin was beginning to run out of steam. His muscles ached and were beginning to stiffen. He was breathing in harsh puffs, his lungs burning with a cold, tight pain. His tongue was itching and the grip on his lightsaber loosening. A sheen of hot sweat covered his body. Still, he kept pulling the force through him and safely deflected all of the blaster bolts heading his way. Rounding a sharp corner he skidded to a halt.

There was another platoon of militantly organised troopers with their blasters aimed at him. They all wore blue banding like the camouflaging stripes of a predator. With expert poise and precision, they were advancing on him. He couldn't see the corridor beyond the staggered wall of soldiers. The trooper at the very front, Anakin recognised immediately. His heart clenched. The large pad on the troopers shoulder indicated his high rank. "Rex," Anakin muttered between huffing breaths. The troopers that had been chasing him ground to a stop, their blasters raised with practiced precision.

"That's commander Rex to you," Rex growled. A downpour of blaster fire shot towards Anakin. Gritting his teeth, he moved with lightning speed to deflect them all. White spots and flashes boomed, blinding and deafening him. Closing his eyes over, he focused on the force. It guided him, showing him where to put his blade.

"Come on Obi-Wan," Anakin grunted. He had to duck as bolt whizzed dangerously close to his head. The firing was organised, keeping him pinned to one spot. His body screamed for release, but he kept on pushing. If he stopped moving for even one second, he would be dead.

The soldiers were gradually overwhelming him. Their fire was getting harder and harder to keep up with. Every bolt was coming a little closer to hitting him. Too close for his liking. A bolt scraped one of his shoulders. A sharp, burning pain coursed through him. Anakin hissed through his teeth. Every move he made felt like he was being hit again. His body beginning to give in and slow.

Anakin reminded himself what he was doing this for. The freezing Muun. Padmé. His mind drifted back to one of the last peaceful moments they had together. They had woken up on a bed of moss at the heart of the Dagobah jungle. For once, he'd been the first to return to consciousness. He could remember her sun kissed skin so perfectly, it was as though he was looking at her still. How happy she had been as she curled into his embrace. The golden light had traced the angles of her features. Her hair had been so silky beneath his fingers. The heat of her body against his. Her sweet perfume blanched his senses. The gentle whoosh of her breath. Utter peace befell him as he submersed himself in the memory. 

Suddenly, batting away the bolts became too easy. Like child's play. The flashes of light were distant. The booms hardly fazed him. His hammering heart settled. The pain in his shoulder was forgotten. Motion flowed easily through him. It was like dancing a dance he had performed hundreds of times before. He knew every movement before he made it and followed through with no further thought. He felt like a blade of grass swaying in a summer breeze. Calling on the force, he thrust his hands out and created a powerful push that blew all of the troopers flat onto their backs. Jumping up into a graceful spin, he landed behind the platoon of fallen soldiers. 

The stench of molten plastisteel was thick in the air. The portion of the hallway he had been standing in was filled with dirty smoke. The floor, walls and ceiling were completely blackened with scorch marks, a few still glowing orange. He was surprised it hadn't collapsed. The troopers began collecting themselves, staggering to their feet and yanking up their blasters. Anakin lifted a hand and wove the force through them all. They were all frozen like flies caught in a spider's web. They struggled against his grip desperately, letting out shouts of frustration. Anakin's breath shallowed as he held onto that memory of Padmé. He didn’t even break out into a sweat as he kept them all rooted to the spot. He might as well have been levitating a leaf into the air.

It was just then that a single set of footsteps came running down the corridor behind him. "You took your time," Anakin hummed, keeping his eyes focused on the struggling troopers before him.

"Yes, well, the gas is very heavy and takes a long time to move," Obi-Wan huffed, standing beside Anakin. His brows lifted as he stared out across all the soldiers that were chained to thin air. "It seems like you have things under control anyway," he dusted off his clothes.

"How long till the gas gets here?" Anakin asked calmly.

Obi-Wan peered over at him as though he was a complete stranger. "Minutes. The rest of the troopers on the ship have been liberated from the chip’s control and have orders to take any non-clone imperials to the detention block," he responded, folding his arms into his sleeves. Anakin purred at that response. He was itching to see Rex released from the prison within his mind. "Might I ask what you’re using to keep yourself so calm?" Obi-Wan inquired, his curiosity peaking within the force. Anakin supposed it was only natural he wanted to know. As his master, Obi-Wan had spent hours pouring over and trying every meditation technique he could to settle Anakin's mind. Even when he was knighted, Anakin knew Obi-Wan was still not satisfied with his emotional control, or lack there of.

"Padmé," Anakin's lips perked into a smirk and he cast a glance over towards his former master.

"I should have known," Obi-Wan tutted, rolling his eyes with a smile. 

A thick, white gas began pouring out of the vents in the ceiling. It fogged the entire corridor, making the troopers nothing but wriggling shadows. He felt it's cold touch stroking his skin. It's intense, chemical smell made his eyes water. He coughed, pushing his nose and mouth into the crook of his elbow. His eyes began stinging and watering. The troopers went still in his grip. So, he carefully let go of them. He could see their shapes moving sluggishly. Their armour clanked and they dropped their blasters down to the floor.

The gas cleared away slowly. The first trooper he could make out clearly was Rex. The reflective visor turned to focus on him. The trooper pulled his helmet from his head, watery eyes landing on the Jedi. "General Skywalker," Rex spoke, his voice cracking. Anakin walked over to him, placing a hand on his shoulder and giving it a squeeze. The pair traded a sad smile. Rex's eyes dropped to the ground. "We should have listened to fives," he uttered softly.

Anakin let out a steady rush of air. "Don't dwell on the past Rex, it will only drag you down," he assured him softly. Rex's dark, haunted eyes lifted to meet the Jedi's. "What matters is the here and now." He dropped his hand back to his side.

"Yes, and here and now, we need your help," Obi-Wan added from a little further back.

"Of course," Rex straightened up, blinking back the liquid in his eyes. "What do you need?" A smile twisted Anakin's face. That was why Rex had always been such a good soldier. No matter what he was feeling, he was always ready to charge head on into battle and help where he could.

"There are many wounded on the planet below. We need to use the medical facilities on the ship," Anakin explained, crossing his arms.

"Happy to be of service," Rex responded, then paused. "If we are sending ships down, we will need to be careful because a violent storm is being whipped up around the fortress as we speak." The calm serenity Anakin had been bathing in drained out of his body. It was replaced by white, hot panic. Anakin sent a wide eyed stare to Obi-Wan, who stiffened upon seeing his gaze.

"We need to get down there now. The last time there was a storm, Malice used it to seize control," Anakin told them, his brows furrowing and his body itching to move once more.

"She can't do much in her state surely?" Obi-Wan spoke sceptically, nibbling on the inside of his cheeks. Anakin shot him a look of wary fear. "Then you'd better get down there, I will follow with a medical team."


	22. Yeah...

Anakin stood before the tall, metal doors that kept the Muun locked away. The impossibly long corridor stretched behind him. It's glossy floors reflected the yellowed light from above. Thunder crackled violently overhead, shaking the whole fortress. His shoulder was aching. Some of the dark fabric had been burned away to reveal dark, bumpy and marred skin beneath. Stalking over to the rectangular access panel, he impatiently pressed on the glowing, blue buttons. Bouncing on his feet, he stared intently at the panel's speaker. After a few moments of waiting in silence, he let of a low huff.

Igniting his sabre, he jumped back in front of the door and plunged his lightsaber deep into its surface. The metal hissed and oozed molten hot liquid that glowed a fiery orange. Grunting with effort and wrapping two hands around the hilt of his blade, he began carving a rectangular hole into the door. Pain stabbed at his shoulder, making him wince. Tears nipped at his eyes. He didn't slow down. The moment he had cut a human sized hole, he stepped to the side and used the force to yank the separated metal out of the door. It dropped with a loud boom. 

Anakin wasted no time jumping through the hole and into the darkness beyond. His feet splashed into liquid when he landed. The overwhelming stench of blood smashed into him, immediately making him gag. The freezing air constricted around him like a snake, pulling the breath from his lungs. His long shadow was cast on the floor as the yellow light shone through the hole in the door. The lanterns were still dotted around the room, but he almost wished they weren't lit. Their green light reflected off of the thin layer of liquid that covered the floor. The shadowy shapes of contorted and crushed Muun bodies were everywhere. Their heads were violently crushed in and their limbs splayed out in all different directions. His lips turned downwards, not allowing his eyes to linger in any one place for too long.

It didn't take him long to find Malice, he just needed to follow the weak trail of the dark side. She was at the centre of the cavernous room, kneeling on the floor, haunched over herself and using her arms to keep her upper body propped up. Her hair hung in a limp curtain around her head. Blowing out a deep breath, Anakin crept closer to her. A mutilated body lay beside her. It's head was beaten into pink mush with little shards of bone fragmented throughout. Cringing at the sight, he turned back to Malice and stood over her. Dark gloves of liquid on her hands stretched up to her elbows. Blood speckled her clothing. Her breath was wet and raspy.

"Malice, what have you done?" Anakin asked, his voice a disbelieving whisper. He dropped to his knees before her. Cold horror was hollowing him from the inside.

Malice weakly craned her head up to look at him. Yellow eyes glared at him between blood soaked strands of hair. Little speckles of inky liquid freckled her pale, gaunt face. "I killed the filth," she growled, her voice so meek it pained him. "I butchered them like the beasts they are." Anakin's heart stopped beating inside of him. He recognised that rage, that blinding hatred within her. It was the same thing he felt when he slaughtered the camp of tusken raiders that killed his mother. It was deeply personal.

Reaching out, he placed two fingers on her forehead. It was freezing cold to the touch. Malice growled, but didn't shift. He sensed she had completely worn herself out. That damaged body of hers could only take so much more. Slipping into the force, the room was so devoid of life and thick with the dark side that his hair stood on end. It was like a toxic gas that buzzed aggressively around them. Malice's mind was in tatters. Her mental shields had completely crumbled. A livid fury burned so brightly within her that it nearly concealed the pain and terror she had stuffed to the back of her consciousness. Slipping behind the emotion too lively for such a dead looking body, he found Padmé easily. That bright light of hers was floating so close to the surface that it was nearly as potent as Malice. The light was completely frayed. It quivered like a strained muscle. 

Grasping onto her, he tried to tug her back to consciousness, but he found her desperately resisting him. It was like a child grabbing onto a door frame in a last attempt to stop their parent carrying them to bed. Anakin's brow furrowed. Padmé had never fought to let Malice stay in control. Not even whilst they were arguing. He couldn't sense any anger from her either. She shouldn't even know what was going on. Realisation dawned on him. That was exactly it. Padmé somehow knew what had happened to the Muun and she didn't want to face it. He didn't blame her, but he also knew she had to come to consciousness. It wasn't safe for the medics if Malice remained awake. "I'm sorry," Anakin whispered. Tightening his grip on Padmé, he overpowered her with ease and dragged her back into control.

Opening his eyes, he pulled his hand away from her. Padmé's head was hung, her fingers curled into the floor. Just as he was about to speak, she let out a low whimper. His stomach clenched. She slowly lifted herself up and sat back onto her legs, staring at the massacre around her. Her cheeks were sunken and devoid of any colour, as though she really was dead. He felt cold unease gripping at his stomach. Glossy eyes landed on the mutilated body beside them. They then glanced down at her hands that rested in her lap. They were slick and dripping with blood. Her chin wobbled and water collected in her eyes. Anakin gently grasped the sides of her face and pulled her head into the crook of his neck. He wrapped his arms around her shoulders. "Don't look Padmé," he murmured.

Padmé began to cry softly, but it slowly grew louder and louder until her whole body was wracked by rasping sobs. Anakin squeezed his eyes shut and pressed his lips into a thin line. He stroked at her back gently, wincing as he her damaged ribs poked bumps into her skin. He could feel her trembling violently in his arms, making his heart clench.

Padmé planted two hands on his shoulders and abruptly pushed him away. His brows pulled together as he stared down at her. A sharp pain erupted from his blaster wound. She began coughing and hacking. Her grip on him grew so tight he winced. His shoulder screamed in pain, Blood splattered out of her lips and into the pool below her. Anakin's chest tightened. She eventually stopped, gasping in a few ragged breaths between tears. "Padmé," he strained through the pain, "you need to calm down. You are hurting yourself,"

Padmé's sobs returned, even louder than before. She cried incoherent words and sentences. Releasing him from her death grip, she burrowed her face into her bloodied hands. Anakin was beginning to think it would have been best to leave Malice in control, Padmé was in hysterics. It was no doubt doing her body no favours. He grasped her wrists gently. "Hey, please calm down," he begged her, raising his voice over the noise. She shook her head vehemently, digging her fingers into her skin. Letting out a short rush of air, he pressed to fingers against her temple. Her mind was messy, with no steady train of thought. It was just raw emotion. Horror. Terror. Guilt. He dragged her kicking and screaming into unconsciousness. Instantly, she fell silent.

Pulling himself from her mind, he reached his arms out to stop her immediately crumbling and causing herself more damage. He balanced her body against his own a shuffled forwards so his knees were around hers. Letting her head rest on his shoulder, he lifted his gauntlet to his mouth and pressed down on the communicator. "Anakin?" Obi-Wan greeted him cautiously. He could probably sense something was very wrong.

"I was too late," Anakin whispered, his lone voice echoed around the room. "She killed them all," a little growl rumbled in his chest. The distant sound of thunder was fading. 

"Oh," was all Obi-Wan could muster.

"Padmé is still alive," he cleared his throat, trying to swallow the devastation that was swirling within him. "Can you send her help."

"Yes... of course," Obi-Wan responded calmly. "I'll get to that at once." The connection ended with a beep that bounced around the room for far too long. Burrowing his face into the crook of her neck, he used his arms to keep her delicately propped up. After all they had been through, he would be damned if he let her die now. Anakin cursed himself. He should never have left her to go to Kamino.


	23. Lock Out

Anakin's heart was aching. He stood in a long room filled with bacta tanks. They were all lined up against the walls. The green glow they emitted staved off the darkness. His sharp features were intensified by the gloom. The majority of the tanks were empty, but the one in front of him was not. Inside it, Padmé's body was floating limply. Her hair flared out like a bronze crown, swaying with the motion of the liquid. She was wearing a loose gown. The hem hovered around her knees. Although some life had returned to her features, they were still gaunt and hollow. The tight mask around her nose and face did her no favours. What felt like hundreds of tubes protruded from her arms, back and mask. The medics had been astounded that she had survived for so long. Anakin had a feeling it was something to do with Malice. If the Sith still had a little consciousness at the back of Padmé's mind, it wasn't inconceivable she could use the force to keep them both alive.

As he stared at her, he felt like this situation was oddly familiar. At least this time, he knew Padmé wasn't a traitor. He knew she had fought to her near death for the Jedi. His stomach lurched when he he remembered how resigned she had been to dying. He never wanted to see her accepting such a gruesome fate so easily again. He never wanted to see her die again, especially when she just thought of him as a hallucination.

Keeping his eyes focused on her face, he brushed the edges of her dormant mind. It had stabilised and grown much calmer. All the overwhelming emotions had drained away and she had regained a steady train of thought. It was relieving, to feel her warm light glimmering like a lightbulb once again. Her mind began stirring in response to his touch. He went completely ridged as her eyes fluttered open. Anakin nearly jumped out of his skin. He must have accidentally woken her when he was assessing her mind. "Padmé?" he spoke through their mental connection, shifting on his feet.

Padmé's eyes flicked over to his, blinking slowly. He could feel she was a little disoriented, but her senses were rapidly sharpening. "Anakin," her voice was stony in his mind. The hairs on the back of his neck stood on end. Her eyes narrowed to slits. For a moment, he wasn't sure if it was Malice or Padmé. "Have you come to gloat?" she hissed. Anakin's face twisted in confusion, his mouth falling open. "Have you come to remind me you were right?"

"What? No, I-"

"Well, you were right," she snapped cutting him off. Anakin felt cold shock coursing through him, rendering him completely speechless. Her anger was rolling off of her in burning hot waves. "I can't control Malice in the slightest without using you as some sort of crutch," the venom in her voice made him flinch.

Anakin reached towards the curving surface of her tank. "Padmé-"

"The Muun blood is on my hands. Okay. I should have been more careful," she growled. "I really don't want to listen to you telling me something I already know." Her mental walls came slamming down, severing their bond.

"Padmé!" Anakin spoke out loud, placing his hands on the glass. Her cold, leering eyes closed over. She didn't even want to see him. Pressing his forehead on the warm surface, he squeezed his own eyes shut. "Please don't shut me out," his voice wavered. It was too late. There was no way for him to communicate with her now. The muscles in his jaw went taught. She had just spat his own words back at him. He gripped tightly at the fabric over his chest. Hurt throbbed within him. Why would she think he had come to gloat? They hadn't ended things well, but surely she didn't think that poorly of him? Perhaps it was just her internal anger. Frustration that built because she was unable to stop Malice from killing the Muun. Maybe it was anger about the pain she was in. So, she'd lashed out at him.

Lifting his head, he took in a shake breath. Whatever the issue was, he would find out soon enough. Since the majority of her injuries were internal, she'd be out of the bacta tank in a few days. Wether or not the medics kept her awake was another story. Either way, it wouldn't be long until he spoke to her again. Then they were going to work this out. They had to. It would be irresponsible if they kept this going any longer. It was putting lives at risk and getting them nowhere. He didn't want to spend another moment fighting with her. Not after he had seen her die. He never wanted to leave things on a bad note with her again. Not when he knew it could very well be the last time he saw her.

*

Anakin sat on the squidgy moss, leaning back onto his hands and staring through a gap in the canopy to the black, night sky. Stars twinkled in the darkness. Humid air curled around him, blanching his skin with warm moisture. Tall trees rose from the ground, huge roots disfiguring the earth by their thick bases. Insects chirped in the night. A beast whooped and screeched in the distant forest. The sounds of cheering voices washed over him from behind. Boisterous laughter and clamouring chatter passed through him.

The clones that had been liberated on the asteroid colony were celebrating their reunion with their brothers and the weaponisation of the de-chipping gas. Most of the Jedi had joined in the festivities, but he didn't feel much like rejoicing. As he stared up at the sky, he could just about make out the dark shadow of the imperial cruiser they had seized control of. The feint glimmer of Padmé's light glimmered like a distant star. Letting out a wistful sigh, he dragged a hand back through his hair. He had to return to the surface to debrief the Jedi council on the mission, but he was itching to return to the cruiser. To Padmé.

"Skywalker," the unmistakable voice of Yoda spoke from behind Anakin. The Jedi Knight turned to look over his shoulder, but he wasn't surprised. He had felt the old master approach like a glowing beacon. Yoda hobbled through the underbrush, leaning hard on his walking stick. 

"Master Yoda," Anakin greeted him, dipping his head.

Yoda sat down by Anakin's side and stared up at the starry sky with gleaming, sad eyes. "Told me, Kenobi did, of your outburst at the asteroid colony," he hummed. Anakin glared down at the floor, pulling his brows into a frown. "Loose ourselves to the darkness once, we all have, but, let it control you, you must not." 

Anakin let out a long sigh. "I know," his voice was soft. "I tried to cut my emotional connection with Padmé, but it didn't work. It made thing worse." He began to pick at a loose thread on his trousers, his head still hung. Yoda hummed curiously, scratching at his chin.

"Consider, did you, that too late, it may already be?" Yoda asked. Anakin turned to him, lifting his brows. "Dangerously attached, you already are. No way to change that, can I see now." Anakin's mouth fell open. He wasn't certain what Yoda was trying to tell him, but if it was anything like what he thought it was, he might cry. "Nearly extinct, the Jedi order is. Concerned what you do in your free time, we are not. Especially if allow you, it does, to calm yourself in the heat of battle." Obi-Wan must have told Yoda about Anakin using the thought of Padmé to root himself in serenity. A few beats of silence passed between them. The little, green master returned to staring at the sky. A small smile curved his wrinkled lips. 

Blinking slowly, Anakin readjusted his weight. Perhaps Yoda was right. It was foolish of him to end things with Padmé in the hopes it would make his emotions for her mellow out. Wether they were together or not, he would never be able to think rationally when her safety was concerned, no matter how hard he tried. In the long run, all it did was cause them both more pain. It had been the thought of her that kept him alive when the troopers were firing on him relentlessly. She had been his peace. Ever since they separated, he had been an emotional wreck. She had been a constant stability to him, one that was reckless of him to throw away. Dragging a hand down his face, he let out a deep sigh. Regret bubbled within him. If only he'd been more logical, then Padmé might not be floating in a bacta tank once again.

"Your advice, I need," Yoda spoke suddenly, dragging Anakin from his thoughts. 

"My advice?" Anakin's voice hitched as he placed a hand over his chest.

"Mrs Amidala's help, we need, in a final strike to destroy the Emperor," Yoda explained, his eyes glancing over at the young Jedi. "Enlist Malice, we must."

"No," Anakin shook his head, annoyance bubbled up within him. "Malice is a monster, she slaughtered hundreds of innocent Muun," he grumbled. "Don't you think Padmé has been through enough?"

"Said, did you not, Malice did it out of emotion?" Yoda asked calmly. "Did the same thing, did you not, with the innocent clones?" Anakin opened his mouth to respond, but bit down on his tongue. It would be double standards if he was given a second chance and she was not, even if she was a Sith. "Jump at the chance to liberate the galaxy, do you think Mrs Amidala would not?" 

Anakin let out a deep sigh. "I don't know anymore," his voice shook slightly, so he steadied it with a small cough. Yoda sent him a concerned gaze, but said nothing. "The holo Obi-Wan and I saw of her made it seem like she has really given up."

"In the face of death as imperials approached, was that not?" Yoda asked. Anakin nodded his head, chewing on the inside of his cheek. Every time he closed his eyes that holo of her replayed in his head. The sound of her dying voice saying her last 'I love you,' was cauterised into his soul. "Be surprised, you would, at the resilience of a wounded fighter."

"What is it you need my advice on?" Anakin asked, closing his eyes over, screwing up his face and trying to push those images from his mind.

"If to do this, we are, then make preparations now, we must," Yoda responded. "Not much longer, we have, until replaced, the clone army is." Anakin felt his chest tighten. Peering over at the grandmaster, he clenched his jaw. "Time, we do not have, to wait until Mrs Amidala recovers, to obtain certainty she will aid us."

Air whooshed out of Anakin's nose. "I can connect you whilst she is in the bacta tank, but I don't know how receptive she will be to me," him huffed, a flash of hurt glinted within him.

"Try, we will," Yoda instructed him softly.


	24. Communication

The chamber of bacta tanks was just as empty as the last time Anakin had visited it. The eerie, green glow intensified his scowl as he peered at Padmé's floating body. Master Yoda was also staring up at her from the base of her tank. The citrusy nip of bacta was drifting around the room. Anakin was wringing his fingers together. His chest was tight and his heart pounding so hard it rocked his entire body. He stared at her dormant face, refusing to be fooled by its passiveness. Yoda peered up, regarding him gently.

Anakin lowered himself to sit on the floor beside the grandmaster, who's hazel irises tracked him the whole way. Settling himself and crossing his legs, he closed his eyes over. With the tenseness of his mind, the force was more difficult to access. Like pulling a string through a metal clamp instead of a rubber ring. Still, it was easy to lock on to Padmé's mind and form a connection. Just like before, she slowly roused to consciousness. Thoughts began forming coherency. The moment she detected him, she began cutting him off. "Wait, Master Yoda wants to speak to you," he spoke internally, no noise escaped his lips. Padmé's mind rolled that phrase between its fingers. Hesitancy buzzed around her. "Don't worry, I'm just here to connect you." There was bitterness in his voice he knew he should have reeled in.

"Alright," Padmé's etherial voice drifted through him, but it was weary and soft. Reaching out a hand, Anakin placed it on Yoda's shoulder. The Jedi grandmaster's mind opened up to him. It's blinding light washed him in a calming serenity. Laying himself out, he acted like a hyper lane between the two of them. He let his eyes flutter open.

"Mrs Amidala?" Yoda spoke. Padmé's form shifted within the bacta tank. Her hair swayed around her head and trailed behind her. Gripping her stomach with one hand and she pushed at the glass and slowly lowered herself to the bottom of the liquid filled chamber. A sharp, unrelenting pain tore across Anakin's abdomen. It completely stole away his breath. The phantom sensation of bubbles tickling his skin erupted all over him. An invisible mask cut into his cheeks. Soft fabric brushed his body. A minty nip burned in his eyes. It took him a few moments to realise it was the sensations on Padmé's body he was feeling. She was expertly diverting him around her emotions, causing the physical hurt she transmitted to be more intense.

"Master Yoda," Padmé greeted him gently, her gaze focusing on his. She folded her legs beneath herself and leaned on the curved tank. Anakin could feel the warm glass pressing against his shoulder. Flashes of what she saw danced before his eyes. The green liquid swirling around her. Two dark shaped seated behind the glass, one tiny and one large. She was tracking their eyes from the unique way they reflected the green light back at her. "How can I help you?" she asked politely.

"Have a way to strike down the Emperor, we do, but, to succeed, we need Malice," Yoda explained, staring up at her gently. Padmé's eyes widened a fraction and she twitched her head away from them. Still, Anakin couldn't sense any of her emotions. He was almost impressed with how well she was hiding them.

"I don't think that's a good idea," Padmé responded, her voice was slightly higher in pitch. "Malice is untrustworthy and unpredictable at best. At her worst she's just a mindless killing machine," there was a sharp edge to her voice that rose the hair on the back of his neck. It sounded like she was speaking from experience. A specific experience. One involving the deaths of hundreds of Muun. Only, she should have been unconscious that entire time. He hoped, she was unconscious that entire time. If she wasn't however, that would explain why she'd been so distressed when he'd pulled her back to control. A cold feeling wrapped around his gut.

"If she betray us, she did, pull control back to yourself, can you not, as you did with Markus?" Yoda leaned towards the tank, tilting his head to one side. His large ears flopped with the movement. Padmé's eyes darkened. The hand gripping her side tightened. The shot of pain that rippled over Anakin's stomach made him gasp. From the way Yoda shifted on his feet, it was clear he could feel it too.

"My control over Malice depends on her just as much as it does me," Padmé explained, her voice straining to remain calm. "Emotion keeps us rooted in our body, so if she is too overcome by anger or fear it's impossible for me to overcome her grip. I also have to be aware she is in control." The cold feeling in Anakin's gut grew worse. It was sounding a lot more like she was watching as Malice killed the Muun.

"Mrs Amidala, our last chance to end the empire, this could be," Yoda's voice told her softly. Padmé crossed her arms over and stared at him impassively through the glass. Her hair curled and floated like sea grass at the very bottom of an ocean.

"Fine, but if you are making deals with Malice, its of your own accord," she responded stonily. Anakin flinched internally. Just as he had predicted, it was clear she was very not okay with this idea. 

"Speak with her, may we?" Yoda asked. Padmé shifted slightly. Closing her eyes, he felt her slipping back into the depths of her mind and lifting some of her shields. It allowed him to catch a tiny glimpse of her emotion. It was guilt and grief beyond belief. Clenching his jaw shut, he glared at the ground. Malice's darkness came pouring through. It's long tendrils wrapped around Padmé's body like a Mon Cala squid. When her eyes reopened, they were burning Sith yellow. His stomach tightened. She tilted her head, scanning her surroundings. Her nose wrinkled with displeasure. Anger was pulsing from her presence, but so was relief. "Malice?" Yoda spoke.

The Sith's head snapped forwards, but her eyes stared straight through them. "The little, green Jedi Grandmaster," Malice chuckled, her eyes displaying a humourless smile. Her head angled towards Anakin. "Skywalker too, what a delight." He felt a flicker of annoyance rising within him. It was her who had slaughtered all those innocent Muun after all.

"Have a proposition, we do," Yoda told her firmly, his expression hardening.

Malice leaned towards them. Once again the pain flared across Anakin's stomach, but she was quick to pull a stream of the dark side through her body, numbing the pain. He was going to have to teach Padmé that trick with the light side. It would no doubt prove to be useful in the coming weeks of recovery she would be facing. "Well don't leave me guessing," she purred.

"A plan to kill Sidious, we have. Incorporate you, it does," Yoda told her, shifting on his feet. An irritated look twisted her eyes, but it was different from the one on Padmé. It had Malice behind it and genuine, burning rage. Anakin stiffened, squeezing his hands into tight fists.

"I do want Sidious dead, but I know the moment he is gone I'll just be locked away in the back of the little princesses mind and forgotten about like a bad memory," she hissed. "It does me no good to help you." Part of Anakin wanted to remind her she did belong in a cage, but the same could be said about him with Tusken Raiders.

"The way we understand it, you're going to be merged with Padmé soon anyway. You're running out of time to get your revenge," Anakin spoke harshly. Malice cocked her head to one side. Her eyes stared blankly to one side as she pondered his words. 

"I suppose you have a point. The majority of my memories are gone now," she commented. Anakin's gut clenched. Did that mean most of Padmé's were gone as well? Why hadn't he noticed? "Only the juicy ones are left," Malice elaborated, sensing his distress. An evil smile wrinkled her eyes. "Alright, I'll help you," she agreed. Although Anakin was relieved she would aid them, his stomach was churning. 

"We will speak with you, when recovered, you have," Yoda informed her, his face still stony and hard. Just like that, Malice's eyes faded back to their natural dark brown. The expression on her face fell neutral. Anakin's brows lifted when he felt Padmé's light flooding their connection and washing out the darkness. Once more, he caught a glimmer of what she was feeling before she slotted her walls back into place. It was love and happiness. It was aimed at him. Warmth tingled in his chest. She was using memories of him to keep Malice under control. The same way he was using memories of her to calm himself in combat. Perhaps she didn't hate him as much as he thought she did.

"I didn't expect her to agree that easily," Padmé snorted.

"Aware of our conversation, were you?" Yoda asked curiously, leaning towards the glass. It was something new to them. In times gone by, he had only known of Padmé loosing complete consciousness when Malice took over. His gut twisted, if she confirmed this then his theory that she was aware the entire time the Muun were being slaughtered became a lot more plausible.

"I was in the passenger seat," Padmé replied, shifting herself back from the glass. "It's the same thing Malice does when she speaks to me."

"Curious indeed," Yoda hummed. Turning his head to her, he gave her a thin smile. "Allow you to return to rehabilitation, we will now." 

"Goodbye for now," Padmé sighed. Anakin lifted his hand from Yoda's shoulder, cutting him from the bond. "Anakin," she spoke, just as he was going to pull himself away. Her eyes were staring intently at his, making his heart stutter.

"Don't worry, I'm going," he sighed through their bond, not speaking the words aloud.

"No, Anakin," the way she spoke his name with a note of urgency caught his attention. His brows pulled together and he leaned towards the glass. "I'm sorry for snapping at you before," she apologised and he felt the sincerity warm him to his core. A sad smile curled his lips. "I shouldn't have taken my anger out on you." Her head dipped slightly.

"It's okay. I probably deserved it," he murmured, scratching at the back of his neck. "I'll see you on the other side, alright?"

"Alright," she responded softly, a tiny smile warming her face. With that, he pulled out of her mind.

*

Padmé roused slowly. She was lying on something soft, but ridged. Every breath she took felt like a stab to the lungs. The room around her was gloomy and dark. It was small and all four corners of the bland ceiling were in her peripheral vision. The nip of bacta solution tingled on her skin. A citrusy tang lingered on her tongue. The stench of sanitisation was burning in her nose. The force was peaceful. Like the sea surface perfectly reflecting the moon's light. Peering at her surroundings, she immediately recognised where she was. It was a little medical recovery room on an imperial cruiser. She was lying on a bland bed with several tubes connected to her arm that linked up to a dispensing unit by her headboard. 

Obi-Wan was leaning against the wall not too far away. His bearded face was perked by a welcoming and warm smile. It looked as though he was genuinely delighted to see her. Anakin was sitting in a rickety chair by her bedside. His body was slumped forwards onto the mattress, his head burrowed into his arms and his long hair falling around his face, concealing it from her sight. "Padmé, it's good to see you awake," Obi-Wan chuckled quietly. "We had a few close calls whilst you were under but the worst of it seems to be over." Her brows pulled together. "I think this is the first time Anakin's been asleep in the past three days," he nodded to the other Jedi. Padmé stared down at Anakin. She fought against the urge to reach out and stroke his hair for fear it might wake him up.

Padmé gleaned the edges of his force presence. It felt like a tired bantha that had been whipped to the bone. Her bottom lip quivered. She turned her head back up to Obi-Wan, who was watching her with gentle eyes. "I don't think I've ever felt him this upset," she commented, her features crinkled.

"He's been like that ever since he thought you died," Obi-Wan told her. Padmé's brows shot up. When did he think she had died? To the best of her knowledge, he had appeared just as Malice was done killing-. She thrust the thought from her mind as she began to get absorbed in the memory, but a tightness still wrapped around her chest.

"Why would he think I was dead?" Padmé asked gently, her brows ached from how sternly she was frowning.

Obi-Wan's expression sobered. A flash of pain flickered in his eyes. Her heart beat picked up pace. "Just after you turned the warp back on, you saw a hallucination of Anakin," he began, peering at her for confirmation. Padmé nodded hesitantly. She was uncertain of how he knew that. "It wasn't a hallucination, Padmé," his voice was pained. Cold shock tingled her insides. Confusion rippled through her. "We were trying to figure out where you were by watching the security holos. Somehow the force connected you through time." Padmé's mouth fell open. "When you passed out, we both assumed you had died because neither of us could feel you anymore." Lifting a hand, she rubbed at her face and let out a long sigh. Placing it back down on the bed gently, she stared at Anakin's slumbering form. So he was there for her. He'd listened to her last goodbye. Padmé knew that if she had listened to him speaking to her as if he wasn't really there whilst giving a deathbed confession after they had left things on such a terrible note, she too would have crumbled internally. "I think he'll probably wake up soon, it's been a few hours," Obi-Wan informed her.

"Obi-Wan," Padmé's chin wobbled as she turned to look up at the jedi master. "I don't know if I can face him," she admitted, her voice cracking. After everything they had been through, after all that had been said in the heat of an argument, after all the secrets they had kept, she had no idea what she could ever possibly say.

"I don't think you're going to have much choice," he told her apologetically. Padmé let her eyes shut over, dread swirling within her. "The only times he has left your side is when I forced him to." She pinched her lips together and fought for control of her emotions. "If you want, I can put you back to sleep for a little while," he offered.

"No, it's alright," Padmé declined. If she was going to have to speak to Anakin, she'd better think of what she was going to say. She didn't want to miss out on any more time either. Padmé's awareness of her life was like placing her hands on her face and staring between her fingers. She was sick of it.

"Then I'd better return to my duties," he stood up from the wall and sent her one last warm smile. "It was nice speaking with you," he began backing out of the room.

"You too, Obi-Wan," she spoke softly, waving a gentle goodbye. The jedi left the room, leaving her completely alone with Anakin. The moment the door clicked shut, she blew out a sigh and stared down at him. Although she was hesitant to speak with him, she did want to know what he was thinking. It was just a matter of time now.


	25. Forgiveness

It had been a few hours of waiting until Anakin began to stir. The recovery room was still in pristine condition. Padmé's bedsheets were pulled tightly over her body and the smell of antiseptic was powerful in the air. Every so often the dispenser would whirr and a clear liquid would pour through the tubes and into her arm. It left her numb for the next few minutes, but the agony of breathing was gone. 

One of the medic clones had visited briefly. After telling her she couldn't sit up for a day or two and giving her a general outline of her prognosis, he left her completely alone. It sounded like she'd be back to working condition in a few weeks. Hopefully the Jedi would have their plan ready to go by then. Every inch of her ached to have this damn war over. It had gone on for too long. Too much was lost.

To pass the time, she had been browsing the force signatures around her. It felt like she was on an imperial cruiser, floating above Dagobah. How they had gotten such a tremendous ship, she had no idea, but it's resources would certainly prove useful. Only when Anakin's dormant mind sharpened to consciousness, did she pulled herself back to her body. 

Padmé watched as he slowly roused. He pulled himself up from where he leaned on her bed. Padmé's heart began pounding in her tight chest. He rubbed his eyes with a yawn and stretched his arms high over his head. The bones in his back crackled and popped. For the first time, she noticed a white bandage around his shoulder that had been concealed by his body. Just as he began running his hands through his hair, he froze completely. His head snapped around to face her. His bleary eyes went wide and his brows shot up. She couldn't stop the smile that wormed it's way onto her face. Anakin's eyes twinkled with delight and he shot her an open mouthed grin. "You're awake?" he squeaked. "How long have you been awake?" he cocked his head to one side.

"A few hours," she responded gently, smiling with her voice. He blew out a long breath, his expression falling and chin beginning to wobble. Tenderly grasping one of her hands, he pressed her knuckles against the bridge of his nose. The heat of his skin warmed her cold fingers.

"I'm so sorry Padmé. I shouldn't have left," his voice shook and he squeezed his eyes shut. 

Padmé shifted her hand, cupping his strong jaw in her hand and tilting his head up to face her. "I told you that you should go," she sighed. He leaned into her touch, his arms falling to the bed and his lips turning downwards.

"By doing it, I agreed with you," he argued. Padmé ran her thumb along his cheek bone. "I'm sorry for everything Padmé. I shouldn't have been so eager to blame you and I shouldn't have gotten so angry." Tears began collecting in his eyes. "I shouldn't have ended things with you either. It was a mistake to think I could ever let go of my love for you."

"I'm sorry too Ani," she murmured, his watery eyes locked onto hers. "It was childish of me to tease you and I should have just been honest when you confronted me." Lifting his head out of her hand, he interlocked it with his own. He brushed his lip across her wrist.

"Can we move on from this?" he asked her sincerely, his eyes twinkling with hope.

The smile returned to Padmé's face. She opened up her arms and beckoned him towards her with her fingers. "Come here," she whispered softly. Anakin stood to his feet. Bending over her, he leaned his elbows down on either side of her chest. The mattress dipped with his weight. She wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him down into a tight hug. The side of his head was pressed against her own. She relished in his warmth, ignoring the pain that flared up in her abdomen. He began to trembled and he sniffled into the pillow. Threading her fingers through his hair, she bit down on her wobbly lip. "Oh Ani," she whispered. "It's over now."

Anakin slowly pulled away from her, a few tears rolling down his cheeks. He plonked back down on his seat, but he shuffled it across so that he was sitting beside the top of the bed and she only needed to tilt her head to one side to see him. With a grief stricken face, he stared down at her. "I thought you were dead," he whispered so quietly that she had to strain to hear him. Haunted eyes stared deeply into her own. "You were so ready to die," his voice broke and he looked away from her as more tears bubbled into his blushed eyes. Padmé felt guilt stirring within her. That was a moment she hadn't thought anyone else would ever see. 

Heat spread across her eyes. "Anakin, I-"

"You're not a burden," he told her firmly, slipping his hands beneath her head and cradling her skull in his palms. "No matter how much darkness would be removed from the galaxy by killing Malice, it would never be enough to replace the light lost at your death." A tear escaped her eye and her bottom lip trembled. She gripped at his upper arm. The hold he had on the back of her head stopped her from turning away from him. "You're not a distraction to me, you're a motivation." Her heart squeezed. "I walked away from you when you needed me most, but I promise you Padmé, I will make it up to you. You're feeling was right. I'm never leaving you again." Her brows shot up. His eyes were set with a steely determination she knew well. 

"Ani, you were in pain too. I should have just spoke to you instead of getting mad. I'm sorry about that," she responded gently. "From now on, we are just going to have to support each other until this war is finally over." His lips curled into a little smile. He released her head to swipe away his tears. Padmé did the same with her own face, smiling as she went.

"I can get behind that," he sniffled a laughed. Padmé smiled up at him. Together, there was nothing they couldn't overcome. 

*

Anakin was pulled from his slumber by the noise of some crying. It was the recovery room Padmé was in. The lights above were very dim, forcing him to strain to see anything. His whole body groaned as he moved and his head was hung forwards at an awkward angle. Picking himself up from where he slouched into his chair, his ears sharpened to the noise of sniffling. Rubbing at his face, he peered around. Padmé was lying on her back in the bed next to him. She was curled into a little ball, facing away from him. His stomach tensed, she wasn't supposed to move like that for a few days. Her body was shivering, rattling the metal frame. A stream of mumbled, shaky words flooded from her lips.

Anakin's heart rate rose. He reached out and shook her shoulder gently. "Anakin," she wheezed, not shifting out of her ball. "Where are you?" the plead in her voice wrenched at his heart.

"I'm right here," he responded quickly, standing to his feet and ignoring the pain flared in his back. He leaned over her. A few tears glittered as the rolled down her cheeks. Her eyes were closed over, but he could see her lids shift as her eyes frantically flicked about beneath them.

"Ani, please help," she whimpered desperately, curling tighter on herself and hiding her face beneath her arm. Anakin was momentarily paralysed. His muscles froze solid. "She's killing them." He clenched his jaw tightly, his face twisting with pain. His theory was right. Padmé was conscious when Malice killed the Muun. 

"Padmé, wake up. It's just a dream," he spoke to her softly. Grasping at her shoulder he shook it vigorously. Padmé jolted awake. Her eyes snapped open and her body sprung upright. He barely moved out of her way before she head butted him. Her eyes darted around, her breath came in rapid, wheezing whooshes. A manic gaze rested on him, softening slightly. Bringing a knee up onto the bed, he pulled her into his arms. She shook violently against his chest. Drawing her legs up to her stomach, she leaned into him. He heard her grunt in pain with every breath she took. "I'm here now," he whispered, stroking her upper arm. 

Padmé cried softly, her tears seeping into his clothing. Anakin hugged her close. Guilt began stirring inside of him, but he pushed it to the side. Guilt wouldn't help him calm her and it certainly wouldn't help him keep her safe. He needed to focus on the future like a Jedi should. The past would get him nowhere.

Eventually Padmé calmed down. Her breathing, although still laboured, shallowed out and her trembling ceased. Her body went slack against his. Delicately, he slipped out from behind her and softly laid her back down on the bed. Once more, her eyes were shut and her head lolling to one side. Straightening out her body like it was supposed to be, he slumped back into his chair. He stared at her for a short while, watching the way her chest steadily rose and fell. Despite his heavy heart, it's rhythmical pattern lulled him into a sleep of his own.


	26. Plagueis

The jungle was eerily quiet. The huge trees rose like the columns of the Jedi temple all around them. The bushes shifted in the breeze. Sunlight poured in through the green canopy. A small huddle of Jedi were collected around a circular holoprojector that stuck out from the natural greenery like a chunk of coal on snow. Yoda, Mace Windu and Obi-Wan were speaking in hushed tones over its glossy surface. By their side, Dooku was chained down to a metallic chair. Tight fabric was wound around his mouth, silencing him. Anakin and Padmé were standing a little distance away, behind a thick tree trunk.

Anakin was staring down at her intently from where he leaned against the rough bark. It had been several weeks and he was more than happy to see her back in her white catsuits and ready to work, but a small part of him dreaded the idea of her getting hurt again. Or worse. Dying. In his hands were two, long, double ended lightsabers with silvery, sleek casing.  
"These are Malice's," Anakin told her, handing them over to her. Her glossy hair was sleeked back into a bun and reflected the golden sunlight as she tilted her head down.

Padmé tenderly picked up the weapons with the tips of her fingers. He watched in mild amusement as she observed the weapons critically. "Aren't they awful long?" Padmé asked, cocking a brow up towards him. With a smirk, he reached out and ignited one of the weapons. Crimson, twin blades burst to life with a hiss. Padmé's eyes widened, reflecting the scarlet light, and she held the weapon out from her body as though it was trying to attack her. "Of course they are double bladed," she grumbled. "As if these kriffing weapons weren't destructive enough."

"Malice uses them mostly defensively," Anakin commented, flicking the button on the blades once again. The red glow sunk back into the hilts with a sizzling whoosh. Padmé's taut features relaxed a little, but her body was still ridged as she held them. "She tries to dazzle you with the spins to make you over extend and then she lashes out." Padmé adorably scrunched up her nose. "Don't worry, I've beaten her every time we've fought."

Padmé's eyes glazed over and her lips twitched upwards. "Malice is objecting. She says you had an unfair advantage the one time you bested her on Florrum," she told him, her brow cocking upwards. Carefully clipping the hilts to her belt, she kept her eyes trained on them the whole time.

Anakin rolled his eyes. "I would have beaten her either way," he retorted with a snort.

"The transmission is ready now," Obi-Wan called over to them suddenly, waving his hands. Their expressions sobered. Glancing at each other, they waded through the thick bushes towards the holoprojector. The Jedi watched them approach. Their faces were warped with mild displeasure. All but Yoda, who looked upon them fondly.

"It's time to bring out the Sith," Windu told the pair, leaning down against the projector. 

Anakin clenched his jaw and stared down at Padmé. She closed over her eyes. Her mind shifted seamlessly from the blinding light into the void of darkness. He supposed it was good she had developed an independence from him. The two halves were begrudgingly working towards the same goal and thus they were able to negotiate control with each other. When Padmé's eyes opened again, they were burning yellow with an angry, red rim. Her cold eyes scanned them and she automatically took a half step away from Anakin. "Are you going to stare at me, or are we making that transmission?" she grumbled, crossing her arms over her chest.

"The transmission is ready to go, we were just waiting on you," Obi-Wan told her with false cheer.

"Then don't let me hold you back," she imitated his tone with a paper thin smile.

With a collective huff, the Jedi began shifting. They walked past Dooku's seated form and stood a fair distance away in the thick tree line. "We will remain here, the holo won't be able to pick us up from this distance," Anakin shouted over to her. "Don't mess up." She scoffed beneath her breath and turned her back to them to face the projector. Anakin leaned against the rough bark of a tree. Dooku craned his head over his neck to glimpse them, his beady eyes narrowing to slits. There was a loud beep and a hologram flickered to life above the circular projector. Anakin instantly identified the curved, hooking nose of Palpatine. The majority of his face was concealed with a dark hood. The Jedi’s blood boiled within him.

"Malice, it's been some time," Sidious chuckled.

"Not long enough, apprentice boy," she leaned her hip against the projector. 

"Now, now little lab womprat, let's remember who killed my master," Sidious taunted her. Her shoulders tensed. Anakin’s brows pulled down together. Lab womprat? Was he implying Malice had been experimented on? By who? Him?

"As I recall, the only way you could kill that scum was by getting him drunk and attacking as he slept," she sneered. "So you will never really know if you could have killed him. That's why you'll always be the apprentice." Sidious's face warped into a furious scowl. Anakin traded a wide eyed look with Obi-Wan. She was meant to be getting on his good side, not aggravating him.

"Speaking of Plagueis, I heard about the Muun massacre on the asteroid colony," Sidious drawled and Malice shifted on her feet. "That wouldn't have happened to be you?"

"I have no idea what you're talking about," Malice lied with a bitter bite. "But whoever it was has done a service to this galaxy. You and I both know the Muun are vile creatures." Anakin's skin bristled at her words. Those were innocent people. Innocent people she slaughtered. Mercilessly. He had at least felt guilt after what he had done to the Tusken Raiders, but she was proud. It sickened him to his stomach.

"How delighted my master would have been to know the mere sight of his species sends you into a murderous rage," Palpatine chuckled. "It must have been all the times he dangled you over death's abyss to find a way to beat immortality." Anakin's brows shot up. Malice was tense, but she was still staring up at him defiantly. "How does it feel to know all your pain was futile because in the end he couldn't stop himself from dying?" he taunted her. Anakin's chest went tight and he could see all the other Jedi watching intently. If Malice snapped now, their plan could crumble.

"Its a tragedy, if you ask me," she retorted dryly with a shrug. Anakin blew out a long sigh of relief. "Although I would have preferred to do it myself, you did me a huge favour by killing him." Sidious narrowed his eyes at her, jutting his jaw to one side. 

"What is it you want from me, Malice," he hissed, his glowing eyes fixated on her. "I'm assuming you didn't just call for old times' sake."

"Ah," Malice chirped. Taking a step to the side, she revealed the chained Dooku. "As you probably picked up, I managed to free myself from Jedi control," she began. Stalking backwards, she roughly grabbed the Count's face with one hand and tilted his glaring eyes up to meet her. "I picked this little gem up on the way." Keeping his face in one hand, she'd delicately perched on his lap. Dooku went completely stiff, a low growl escaping his chest. Malice laughed and ran her tongue up the side of his face. He let out a muffle shout thrashing in her grasps. This only encouraged more laughter. Anakin's upper lip curled. The queasiness in his stomach grew worse. "I thought you might want him back," Malice spoke innocently, roping an arm around the Count's neck.

Sidious leered at her like a rotten fruit. "What is it you want in return?" he asked slyly, tilting his head away from her.

Malice used Dooku's shoulder like an arm rest and propped her head up in one hand. He was still leaning as far away from her as he could. "Nothing big really..." she sang gently. Palpatine's eyes narrowed. "I want to help you destroy the remaining Jedi," she told him bluntly.

Sidious's face twisted into a wide smile. "Really?" he chuckled, scratching at his chin. "That's a change in tune from the last time we spoke."

"Don't get me wrong, I still want to hang you from a rope and watch as the life slowly fades from your eyes, but there is a much greater enemy to us both now," Malice stood to her feet. Dooku practically deflated in relief. She leaned her hands down on the holo communicator. "I hate the Jedi. They tried to keep me locked up like a mindless beast and I will never be free as long as they exist. I know if we work together we can wipe their stain from the galaxy." Anakin began cracking his fingers and chewing his tongue.

"Alright," purred Sidious, his smile widening. "If you want to join forces with me, then I need you to do one thing," he told her. Malice cocked her head to one side. "Kill Dooku."

All of the Jedi lurched forwards. Yoda's eyes grew wide. "Fine by me," she hummed. Whipping out her lightsaber, she plunged a crimson blade back into Dooku's chest without even looking at him. Anakin's face twisted into a grimace. Yoda began racing out towards her. Sidious let out a loud cackle and his image dissolved into thin air. Malice returned the lightsaber to her belt. The grandmaster jumped to Dooku's side, his eyes flicking up and down the Sith. "Done, what have you?" he asked, turning up to Malice. All the other Jedi began shifting towards the scene. 

"He's a Sith. Isn't that one less thorn in your side?" Malice snorted, crossing his arms. Although Anakin didn't really care Dooku was dying, he knew Yoda shared a deep bond with him. The Jedi collected a respectful distance away from the toppled Sith. His face was twisted with pain and a hole smouldered in the side of his chest. It was a bad idea to give her back her lightsabers after all.

"Defenceless and unarmed, he was," Yoda responded with a scowl.

Malice clenched her jaw and let out a long sigh. Sitting down on the ground beside Dooku, she placed a hand on his chest and closed her eyes over. "I can keep him alive for a little while, but if you want anything beyond that you'll need a medic," she grunted. Anakin's brows lifted, crinkling his forehead. Malice submersed herself in the force. The full power of her darkness spewed out from her mind and formed a layer over Dooku's life force just as it began to fade. 

"Windu, Obi-Wan, get help, you must," Yoda commanded them. The two Jedi dipped their heads and ran in the direction of the camp, vanishing into the tree line. Anakin stood over Malice, watching her intently. She was keeping Dooku alive beyond the brink of death. Sidious had mentioned that his master had done the same to her. That must have been how she learned this power. It must have been how she kept herself alive on the Muun colony. 

Time ticked by painfully slowly. The darkness she had lain over his body was keeping his life force trapped inside of him. Dooku was pale. A sheen of sweat made his skin glossy. His eyes were screwed shut. Even his breaths were wheezy and harsh. Yoda sat down on the ground, placing his walking stick across his lap. Wounded eyes watched his former apprentice. With a taloned hand, he pulled the gag from Dooku's mouth. 

Anakin leaned against the communicator crossing his arms over his chest and muddling through the conversation he had just overheard. So this man, Plagueis, was a Muun man that doubled as Sidious's Sith master and toyed with Malice so much that the mere sight of Muun infuriated her. At least, that was what he could put together. He supposed that explained her blatant hatred of the species and her mass slaughter, but it didn’t justify it.

The more time passed, the more Malice began to struggle. Sweat beaded her hairline and her fore head wrinkled. A haze of fatigue was fogging her mind. Yoda peered up at her with concerned eyes. Anakin began chewing on his lip. A sharp breeze blew through the trees. "Skywalker, annoy me," Malice spoke suddenly, her voice dark and guttural as always. The two Jedi traded confused looks. 

"You want me to annoy you?" Anakin cocked a brow. Wouldn't his distraction risk her accidentally loosing grip on Dooku? He could die from that fatal mistake. It wasn't time for games.

"Normally your face alone is enough to irritate me and boost my connection to the dark side, but I need a little more anger than normal and I don't want to take my mind off Dooku," she responded with a playful bite, not moving in the slightest. 

"When you put it that way, how can I resist?" he grumbled. Pushing himself into motion, he lowered himself to sit down beside her. The ground was soft and cold moisture seeped up into his clothes. After a moment of staring at her blankly and trying to conjure up the best way to annoy her without distracting her, an idea struck him. The angriest he had ever seen her was the aftermath of the Muun colony slaughter. If she wanted rage, he would give it to her. "Tell me, is Plagueis the man who split you?" he asked. Malice's brows pulled together and her jaw tightened. The darkside surged within her, pouring out a fresh stream atop Dooku. 

"He was," Malice hissed through gritted teeth. Anakin's mind flashed back to the night he found Malice cowering because of thunder. That was the man who had instilled such fear in her. Brushing the thoughts aside, lest he get angry himself, he continued with his task.

"He also stopped you from dying, like you are doing to Dooku now?" he pressed. Malice's lips curled downwards and the fingers of her free hand dug into her knee. Rigidly, she dipped her head.

"Then Sidious was right," Anakin barked a bitter laugh. "You were just his little lab womprat." Malice fury overflowed her mental shields. His chest tightened. "He could pull you apart and mess with your mind whenever he wanted. You were completely useless to stop him. You were just a flag that flapped to Plagueis's wind." Yoda stared up at Anakin with a face that was warped by a conflicting mix of pity and disapproval. 

"You can stop now," Malice growled. The stillness of her body did not portray the thrashing anger in her mind. It was filthy black and lashed out with long tentacles of nauseating power. A cold sensation washed over Anakin. Heeding her words, he bit down on his tongue.

This fresh boost of rage lasted Malice a long time. When Obi-Wan and Mace returned, her face was pulled down into a terrible scowl. Her hand still grasped her knee in a deadly grip. The medic clones began preparing a stretcher, a circular droid hovered beside it. "The moment I let go of him, he will die," Malice told the clones, her voice stony and the muscles in her shoulders flexing. They peered at her warily, but nodded an affirmative.

"Yes, ma'am," they responded. "We'll work as quick as we can."

Just like that, the clones began hooking Dooku up to the spherical droid and attaching all sorts of wires to his skin. They put patches over the open wound. A little tremble rattled Malice. Anakin began picking at the grass. The other Jedi paced or watched with steady eyes. "Hurry up," Malice grunted, a few beads of blood streamed out of her nose. Closing his eyes over, he willed himself to stay calm. It was just a little blood from the strain of keeping someone else alive. Padmé was fine.

"We're nearly done," one of the clones told her as he punched a few buttons down on the droid's glossy surface. A little more blood ran out her nose, seeping into her lips and dripping off her chin. The little droid beeped and whistled. "All right, it's safe to let go," the clone told her. Malice retracted her hand. It hovered at her side and she began to slowly clench and unclench her fist. With one swipe of her tongue, she licked the blood from her top lip. The clones lifted Dooku up onto the stretchers and led him through the forest. Mace Windu immediately followed behind them.

Yoda stood, but before he left, he turned to Anakin and nodded his head Malice's direction. "A task for you, this is," he told him, before slipping off into the trees. Anakin could feel the Sith grappling with her anger, trying in vein to suppress it. It was like she was trying to shove a tentacled beast into a hole. With every limb she pulled off her mind, two more would take its place. 

"Do you want me to stay?" Obi-Wan spoke quietly from where he stood behind Malice. Murderous intent began pouring out of her in sickening waves. Her eyes were still closed over, her jaw set in a clench.

"That might be for the best," Anakin responded, cautiously staring at Malice. With her defences so high he couldn't simply slip into her mind and pull Padmé out. From the feel of her overwhelming rage, he didn't think that Padmé would be able to seize control either. Reaching out slowly, he moved to gently place a hand on her shoulder. "Malice?" he beckoned her gently. The moment he touched her, the force screamed a warning. Both Obi-Wan and Anakin leapt into the air, bouncing away from her. The pair landed side by side, several meters back. The Sith had ignited all four of her lightsaber blades. They had dodged her sweeping strike by the clothes on their skin. Her yellowed eyes were focused on them, her face completely taut. Lifting herself rigidly to the feet, she bared her teeth like a rabid beast. Her fury had completely absorbed her. She was beyond the point of reason.

Malice began twirling her blades. They formed wheels of crimson that mercilessly cut through the foliage and left charred, molten burns on the churned ground. The weapons hummed aggressively with the movement. Her face was shadowed and dark as she slowly began to advance on them. "I hope you have a plan?" Obi-Wan asked, igniting his sapphire blade and lowering himself into a fighting stance. 

"I thought my plans were reckless," Anakin grumbled, igniting his own blade with a hiss and taking a few cautious steps backwards.

"They are," Obi-Wan grunted. "But you know an awful lot more about taming Malice than I do," there was a strain of urgency in his voice. Anakin had no chance to respond. She leapt upon them, slashing viciously with her blades. He had to move with overwhelming pace to block all of her blows. Once again, he and Obi-Wan flipped out of her reach and landed beside one another. They retreated away from her to buy themselves more time. Desperately wracking his mind for a solution, he nearly groaned when it came to him.

"For now we need to keep her active. The fatigue will start slow her down quickly," Anakin spoke quietly to his master. Malice began spinning her blades again, her face was warped with frenzied fury. Instead of waiting, she advanced on them much quicker than before. Anakin's heart leapt into his throat. "Once she wears out, I'll distract her," he spoke in a hurry. "I need you to restrain her." Obi-Wan sent him an incredulous look. "I only need a few moments," he added. 

"That's sound reckless enough," Obi-Wan sighed. With a nod, the pair jumped into battle.

Malice was a lot fiercer than he expected. In the past, he had never fought her at full functionality with both her lightsabers. Now, she was a spinning tycoon. He could never really pin point exactly where she was behind her blur of scarlet blades, making it impossible to strike at her accurately. The best he could do was hack at her blades in the hope one would give or her attack would falter. Obi-Wan, the master of defence, was fairing much better than him. Evading her swipes was taking less a lot less toll on him. Anakin was constantly on his feet, dodging sweeping attacks and peltings of rocks. The three tore through the forest. Stray swipes cut through entire trees. The animals screeched and wailed, fleeing the battle site. Anakin was sweating, his heart pounding in his chest. The humid air was sticky on his skin. He fought to keep his breath steady. The two Jedi fought in complete synchronicity. Obi-Wan was the receding waterline that lifted to form Anakin's lapping wave. 

Eventually, Malice began to ease on her attacks. Although the anger was writhing just as strong within her, her movements had become sluggish and sloppy. The Jedi traded a nod and Obi-Wan slipped behind her, forcing her to fight on two fronts. Her body was angled to keep them both in sight, her blades fending off their hits. Sucking in a deep breath, Anakin began a relentless attack. He slashed and chopped at her defences viciously. Turning towards him, she caught his strike with both sabres. Obi-Wan lunged at her from behind, wrapping his arms around her upper body and pinning her own arms into place. Malice let out a guttural snarl, thrashing in his hold. Anakin dropped his sabre, grabbed both her wrists and thrust them apart. It cleared a path between her crimson blades straight to her body. He lurched forwards, planting his lips on her own.

Malice went still. The darkness slipped into the back of her mind and the light came crawling through. The salty, metallic taste of blood seeped into his mouth. "If I'd have known you were going to do that, I would have said no," Obi-Wan grumbled. Anakin pulled away from her and cast a dry look at the other Jedi.

Padmé's eyes had returned to their honey brown, but they were glazed and glassy. She was wriggling her fingers, trying to ground herself into her body. Her thumbs flicked over the crimson lightsabers' ignitions and the scarlet blades sank back into the hilts with a ssk. Obi-Wan released her, taking a respectful step back. Anakin also let go of her wrists. Her arms slowly fell down to her sides. "Is she alright?" Obi-Wan asked, eyeing her cautiously.

"Sometimes it takes her a little while to fully regain control," Anakin responded, swiping at his mouth to remove the last traces of Padmé's blood. She blinked a few times, her eyes flicking around. Her gaze sharpened and she peered down at the weapons in her hands. Curling her upper lip in disgust, she thrust them away from herself and towards Anakin. He plucked them from her grasps and clipped them to his belt. 

"Sorry," Padmé mumbled. Turning away from them, she rubbed away the blood on her face with her sleeve. At first Anakin was confused with her muted reaction, but a thick fog of fatigue was swarming relentlessly around her. She was doing her best to keep it away but without Malice's constant flow of dark side power, she was fighting a loosing battle. 

Approaching her cautiously, he wrapped his arms around her upper body. Instinctively, she leaned into him. Her upset at Malice's attempt to hurt him was burning within her mind, but it was eclipsed by her exhaustion. In a matter of moments, she fell limp in his arms. He squeezed her tightly against himself to stop her from falling. "Did she just fall asleep?" Obi-Wan's voice hitched.

With a sigh, Anakin bent down and scooped her up into his arms. Turning to Obi-Wan he nodded gently. "Movement really wears her out," he responded. "Malice was using the dark side to keep herself awake, but Padmé doesn't know how to do that with the force."

Obi-Wan's expression shifted into mild upset. "I see," he spoke softly. Although her fatigue was great for keeping Malice in check, it did nothing but hinder Padmé. Together, they began walking back towards the camp.


	27. Adventure

When Padmé woke, she felt like her body was made of rock. She was curled into a ball on a hammock that cradled the contours of her body. Humid air lay like a blanket atop her. The dark of the night smothered her vision. All around her was soft snoring and whooshing breath. With a sigh, she rolled over onto her back. Her leaden muscles groaned and her stiff joints cracked. A few glimpses of the starry sky could be seen through the shadowy shape of the canopy. All sorts of animals made whooping bellows and shrill shrieks. There was a medley of insects chirping in the underbrush. Lights twinkled in the force all around her.

Closing her eyes over, memories returned to her in choppy bits. Being trapped within her own body. Sidious. Dooku. Rage. There was nothing she could do as Malice viciously attacked Anakin and Obi-Wan. Her chest tightened. Running a hand down her face, she pulled in steady breaths and tried pushing the memory away. Anakin's steadfast warmth brushed the edges of her mind. Padmé lifted her defences and allowed a sturdy bond to connect the pair. It was like giving him a handshake, only their very bones were merged. He was only a few hammocks away. Their bond showed her what he felt and what he saw. Like her, he was lying on his back and staring up at the sky with an arm behind his head and leg dangling from the edge of the hammock. "So you're awake?" Anakin's voice whispered in her mind.

"I am, which begs the question, why are you awake?" Padmé responded, not having to speak out loud to communicate.

"I was asleep," Anakin grumbled. "I guess I just came to my senses when I felt you stirring."

"Have you developed an automatic Padmé sensor?" she giggled, rolling her eyes. He let out a huff of air and refused to dignify her comment with a response. Instead, she felt him shifting and moving. Standing to his feet, his light creeping closer. Using her arms to balance herself, she sat up. The hammock rocked and wobbled below her. His shadowy shape halted by the end of her hanging bed. 

"Come on," he still spoke through their connection, reaching a hand out towards her. Clambering off the hammock, she gently grasped his hand. Almost immediately, he began pulling her through the jungle and away from the nest of hammocks. 

"Where are we going?" she whispered internally, straining at the ground to ensure she didn't trip over any knobbly roots or protruding stones.

"I don't know," he hummed back. "Let's just go an adventure."

"Alright," Padmé laughed. Just like that, they delved deep into the jungle. They came across waterfalls and deep gorges. They saw luminescent creatures and narrowly missed getting eaten by a slithering swamp monster. He gripped her hand the entire way. Only when they reached an open body of water, did they stop. The moonlight gleamed off the glassy surface. Tall trees stretched into the starry sky. A fresh, earthen smell washed over her. Anakin sat down on one of the large, rocky slabs that lined the still water. The trees rustled gently in the breeze behind them, the old bark creaking. He patted the spot next to him and she carefully lowered herself down beside him. The moonlight reflected off the edges of his face, allowing her to see his basic outline. Grasping at his shoulders, she pulled his upper body down into her lap. With one arm to propping her up, she used the other to toy with his hair. It was silky and sleek beneath her fingertip. He let out a low groan and melted beneath her touch.

For a long while, she just relished his presence. They were together, completely undivided. Calmness like never before washed over her. Their force presences were swaying with one another in an identical rhythm. The bond between them was still burning with love. It felt like they were floating through the clouds. "This reminds me of the time we went swimming under the Tro moon," Anakin whispered up to her, his voice tenderly sweet. Padmé's brows furrowed and her head tilted to one side. "You don't remember?" he asked, his voice wavering. Biting down on her lip, she shook her head. Anakin's back tensed, a chord of distress thrumming within him. "Do you remember when we went to the Tritto cove?" his voice was hitching. Once again, no memory sprung to mind and she shook her head. Anakin dragged one of his hands down his face. It seemed her memory loss was finally catching up to her.

"Don't get upset, Ani," she whispered, stroking his hair and twirling a few sleek locks around her fingers. He let out a high pitched whimper. "I spoke to Malice about this and she really swayed my opinion." His interest peaked and he peered up at her. "Those memory haven't been forgotten and they haven't vanished. They are just in a different place," she sighed. "I'm not fading away, I'm just transferring information." Placing a hand on his cheek, she stroked her thumb along his brow. "The final result might be a little darker, but I'm not going anywhere. I promise."

Anakin leaned into her hand and let out a whooshing sigh. "I'll hold you to that," he murmured. "Speaking of Malice, some of the other Jedi are worried about her outburst. They fear we've lost her cooperation." Padmé's chest tightened at the memory. If she'd seen herself hurting Anakin, she didn't know what she would have done. Lifting a hand, he began to stroke her upper arm gently.

"I'll talk to her now," Padmé responded, letting her hands go slack in his hair. Closing her eyes, she called out to Malice and lowered her defences. A cold shiver ran down her spine when she felt the Sith's presence leak into her mind. 

'What do you want?' Malice hissed.

"That's not very friendly," Anakin tutted through the bond. Padmé stiffened. So their connection not only allowed him to hear Padmé's inner voice, but also Malice's? A little smile curved her lips and Anakin's own amusement blossomed in her presence. Malice, on the other hand, seemed rather perturbed. 

'Are you two ever apart?' She huffed.

"Not often anymore," Padmé answered her honestly. Over the past weeks, they had both been stuck on Dagobah. She was in recovery and he was helping to organise the assassination on Sidious. Most of their free time was spent fixing the damage that had been done by their argument. "We just want to know if you are still willing to cooperate after you tried to kill two Jedi yesterday." Malice went quiet and what Padmé sensed from the Sith stunned her. Shame. Anakin shifted in her lap.

"Don't worry," Malice snapped. 'I'm still willing to be a pawn in your little plan.'

"Thank you," Padmé spoke gently. Anakin grasped her hand, pulling it around to his lips and planted a gentle kiss on her wrist.

'You disgust me,' Malice growled. He smiled against her skin. The next thing Padmé knew, his tongue was leaving a hot track of liquid up her arm. She squealed in surprise, but she should have expected it. Opening her mouth, she went to scold him but Malice was quicker on the uptake. 'I should have killed you when I had the chance,' she snapped.

"Then its a pity you can't," he laughed. Lifting himself from Padmé’s lap with one arm, he gripped the nape of her neck with the other. Pulling her down to his level, he trailed his tongue along one of the muscles in her neck. Goosebumps erupted over her body, followed by a rush of heat. Malice let out a screaming grumble. He began to gently pinch at her skin with his teeth. Padmé's heart began pounding in her chest.

'Shut me out. Shut me out. Right. Now.' Malice barked. Stifling a laugh, Padmé severed the bond to Malice and lifted her shields. Now it was only Anakin's presence in her mind and it was burning hot.

"You're such a tease," Padmé laughed, pulling away from him and slapping at his chest. Anakin sat up straight and turned to face her. His eyes glinted. A dark chuckle rumbled in his chest. Grasping her shoulders, her pushed her back down onto the cold rock. A squeal of shock escaped her lips. He straddled her waist, grasping her head in his hand and planting a heavy kiss on her lips. Padmé tangled her hands into his hair, her abdomen went tight.

He pulled away from her, panting slightly and lowered his lips to her ear. "You're not a tease when you follow through."


	28. Touch Down

Padmé's shuttle teetered and rocked as it touched down on the ground. There was a squadron of imperial clones visible through her viewport. They were standing in perfect formation, their guns clutched closely to their chests. A huge hangar surrounded them, but it was completely empty. The vast space was filled with black, glossy floors and blinding lights. The huge blast doors above them showed nothing but dark space and twinkling stars. They closed over with a loud click. 

Rising to her feet, she took in a few steady breaths. Anakin was seated the the corner of the cockpit, safely out of view from the troopers. He sent her an encouraging smile. "You'll be okay," he whispered. "I'll see you on the other side." His eyes twinkled as he stared up at her. 

Padmé nodded, a smile tugging at her lips. "I know I'll be fine. Not even organ failure could kill me," she jested lightly. His face paled, forcing her to suppress a giggle. "Stay focused Ani, don’t worry about me, and we'll both get through this fine," she winked and slipped out of the cockpit. Padmé slammed her hand on the activation for the ramp. Dropping her defences, she beckoned out her inner darkness. Malice easily seized control.

Before the ramp had even finished touching the ground, Malice was strutting down it. Her lightsabers swung from her hips and her white catsuit clung close to her body. She had requested Padmé wear something that wasn't such a bright eyesore, but of course this was what she was given. The troopers that were organised in militant rows straightened up when they saw her. A single trooper stepped forwards. His angled visor had a stripe of blue across it. "The Emperor will see you in his throne room," the trooper spoke in a bark, his head high and body ridged.

"How gracious," she rolled her eyes. 

The trooper turned and the rest parted perfectly into two halves. "Follow me," the trooper in command told her, marching away. With a sigh, she sauntered after him. The squad of troopers followed closely behind her. All of their armour was painted with blue stripes. They escorted her through the ridged, maze-like halls of the ship. There were troopers everywhere. They whizzed around, carrying all kinds of guns and weaponry. After a short walk and an awkwardly cramped elevator ride, they halted before a huge, arching doorway. It slid open with a whoosh, revealing nothing but gloomy darkness within. 

Malice stepped in, the troopers lingered behind the door. It shut with a definite click. The room beyond was moderately large but desperately bleak. It was lit only by a wide window that let in a few meagre rays of distant starlight. Black, metallic floors lead up to a huge set of steps. At the precipice of the steps was a tall, angular throne that towered several feet above everyone else in the room. Atop it sat a haunched over, hooded figure. Cold waves of nauseating power rolled off of him. By his sides stood tall guards draped in red robes, with long and deadly staffs. They stood to attention, their heads high and bodies stiff. There were several others like them dotted around the room at strategic vantage points. Letting out a hefty sigh, she approached the throne slowly.

"Malice, my dear," Sidious spoke to her warmly, but his tone retained a mocking bounce. Her skin prickled. "How nice to see you again."

"I wish I could say the same," she grunted. He chuckled darkly.

“Now, now, shouldn’t we save the animosity for the enemy?” he asked, his thin lips tugging into what she could only assume was a smile. “If your actions were half as deadly as your words, you would have obtained freedom years ago.” Malice rolled her eyes and squared her shoulders. The old fool didn’t even know what he was talking about.

“What can I say,” she shrugged. “Years of torture builds character.”

“Wouldn’t my dear, old master be so proud to see us working together now?” he chuckled, leaning back into his chair. In truth, Sidious had never been able to control Malice. After his master had died, Palpatine locked her away because he was afraid she would attract unwanted attention. Attract unwanted attention, she did.

“I think he’d be disappointed you have learned the trick to eternal life yet,” Malice shrugged innocently, but Sidious’s face pulled into a deep scowl.

Sidious opened his mouth to respond, but there was a loud beeping on the arm of his chair. His brows pulled down. “Come with company?" Sidious asked, a little smile peeking his thin lips. Malice narrowed her eyes.

"Yes, she did," a voice announced from the doorway behind her. Malice looked back over her shoulder. Anakin sauntered into the room, his lightsaber dangling from his hip. A grim look was smeared on his face, reflecting her own. The red guards shifted slightly, readying their weapons. A wave from Palpatine forced them back into their neutral positions.

"Skywalker, what delightful surprise," he purred, pressing his fingertips together. Anakin's eyes narrowed as he wandered up to Malice's side. Sidious's yellow gaze bore into her. "I thought you hated the Jedi?" 

"I hate you more," she grumbled, crossing her arms tightly over her chest.

Anakin drew his lightsaber. The blade glowed intensely in the gloom. "It's over Sidious," he growled. His whole body was taut like a compressed spring. Malice let her hands linger over her blades, not drawing them yet.

"Oh?" Sidious chuckled.

"All the clones on this ship have been freed from your brain control. I was a little late to this part because I was supplying the engines with a healthy dose of liberation gas," Anakin snapped, pointing up to a vent where a creamy mist began pouring out. "We've been trading your clones for ours for weeks and even as we speak the rest of the ships in your fleet are being liberated by Jedi." Palpatine's fingers curled into his armrest. An evil smile curled her lips. Malice had only been a decoy used to make sure Sidious was in the right place at the right time, but she still got ridiculous satisfaction from knowing this plan couldn't have taken place without her. "Give up. You have minutes until this room is flooded with Jedi." Anakin twirled his lightsaber. "As strong as you are, you can't defeat us all."

Sidious's eyes narrowed to slits. Pressing down on the arm of the throne, thick shields slid out from gaps in the ceiling and lined the perimeter of the room. Malice's heart jumped into her throat and she whipped out her lightsabers. All four crimson blades ignited. With the window cut off by the shields, the only light source came from a blue glow around the base of the Emperor's throne and the blades of their humming lightsabers. Before her very eyes, the Sith dissolved into the dark shadows of the room. Her heart was pounding so fiercely in her chest that it shook her whole frame. Anakin whipped his head around, using his blade like a light rod to locate Sidious.

Taking a few timid steps back, she scanned the darkness for moving shadows. In the corner of her eye, she caught a flicker of movement but it was too late. Bright light flashed before her with a thundering crack. Unbelievable pain burst through her. She was thrown back against the wall, her head smashing it hard and knocking her completely unconscious.

*

Padmé stared around the black void. Her dress swirled around her feet and her head piece dug into her scalp. Her heart pounded in her chest and her breathing was laboured and heavy. Her hands wrung together as she began pacing back and forth. Every footstep echoed around the emptiness, thundering back into her ears. She broke out into a cold sweat. Padmé had no idea what was happening in her body. Malice had completely taken control and since they wanted to take a Sidious off guard, she had been thrust to the back of their mind. The only issue was, Padmé shouldn't be conscious. Something must have gone wrong. Very wrong.

"Stop pacing, you'll give us a headache," a low guttural voice growled. Padmé's skin prickled. She peered back over her shoulder. Malice was there, her gaunt features poking out from underneath her deep hood. Padmé's blood ran cold and her body stiffened. 

"Why are you here?" her voice hitched as she turned to face the Sith. "What happened?"

"Palpatine locked us into the throne room," she sighed, folding her arms into her sleeves. "He knocked us out of the picture." Padmé felt hot panic prickling her insides. She took a step towards the Malice.

"Then Anakin is on his own," her voice trembled. Malice's lips twitched downwards. "You need to find a way back to consciousness. You need to help him!"

Malice's face twisted around a snarl. "Don't tell me what to do!" she barked. "I didn't choose to get knocked out." Jutting her jaw to one side, her nose wrinkled. "Why don't you go out there and help him?"

"I can't use the force or a lightsaber like you can," Padmé protested, throwing her arms into the air. "Fighting is your specialty!" Frustration bubbled away within her. They didn't have time for this. Anakin was on his own with the emperor. What if the other Jedi couldn't reach him before he was killed? What if he gets seriously injured?

"My specialty?" she growled, placing a hand over her heart. "I'm only good at it because I had no other choice but to learn." She began pacing around Padmé like a caged beast. The senator kept her eyes on the Sith at all times. "Why is it that I'm forced to do all the dirty work and hold all the suffering when you can frolick through the fields like a little doe!" Cold anger festered through her force presence, making Padmé go ridged. Malice was more upset than normal. Perhaps fighting Sidious had torn open old wounds.

"I had no more choice in this than you did," Padmé responded, forcing her voice to remain steady and keeping her arms ridged by her sides.

"But I'm still the one shamed like an insecurity! A flaw!" Her face was burning red. "Tell me, Padmé. When we were split, do you think it was just our mind that was cleaved in two?" Padmé's mouth opened to answer, but no words formed on her tongue. Goosebumps prickled her skin. Malice halted in her tracks, right in front of Padmé. "It was our memory too." The muscles in her jaw tightened. "Every single bad memory we had, which was a lot, was thrust on me whilst you were gifted all the lovely sunshine and roses memories!" a little liquid shimmered in her eyes as she brought her face right up close to Padmé's. "You were allowed to live a normal life. I was used as a test subject for a mad man's bid to find eternal life." Padmé's heart was steadily sinking. Pressure built behind her eyes. "Every waking moment of my life I've spent fighting to keep it!" She leaned back. "I was used as a lab rat, a weapon, a decoy, a slave. I've never known freedom or happiness and yet you and your Jedi friends want to keep me locked away! How is that fair?" she snarled.

"You hurt people, Malice." Padmé explained softly, guilt wrung her stomach. "You're too dangerous to let loose." Malice's nose flared.

"I'm a product of my environment," she argued, dark shadows deepening her features. "An environment you've never had to experience." A single tear fell from her yellow eyes. "But you will. You'll suffer as I do when we join. You'll know the real misery of our life," she jabbed a finger between them. Epiphany hit Padmé like a open palmed strike to the face.

"Is that why you refused to help the Jedi keep us separated?" she asked softly, her hands clasping over her chest. "You want to be released from your past. You want a share of my joy?" Malice glared down at the floor. A grimace twisted her features. Padmé's heart clenched. Stepping towards Malice, she wrapped her arm around the Sith's bony shoulders. She stiffened in the embrace. "Then I won't fight it anymore," Padmé whispered, holding her counterpart close. "This battle between us needs to end." Malice returned her embrace. Both halves began to glow and shimmer. Padmé felt her mind beginning to haze and shift. It was steadily growing blank. All her knowledge was slipping away between her fingers. "I'll see you on the other side, Malice," Padmé whispered. Her body began dissolving into dust. The darkness of the void was cracking and falling all around them.

"I'll see you on the other side," Malice responded, holding her close. With that, they crumbled into a glitter cloud and the void completely collapsed. They were two halves no more. The whole was reunited.


	29. Double Act

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Last chapter tomorrow!

Anakin's heart was pounding. The throne room was dark and the Emperor's red guard were fiercely attacking him. All he could see of them were the crackling tips of their electric pikes. The blue light of his blade could only illuminate his immediate surrounding before the darkness made it obsolete. The only way he could visually orient himself was the steady blue glow at the base of the Emperor's throne. He was relying heavily on the force. It told him where the guard were and screamed at him before they attacked. Malice was lying in the darkness not far from him. The occasional flash of light illuminated her white clothing. 

The shields around the perimeter of the room were thick and his lightsaber bounced off the wall. He was beginning to sweat, his breath coming in panting huffs and his chest growing tight. His swipes were becoming more desperate and aggressive. If he failed now, if he fell to Sidious's hand, then the Emperor could escape. He'd kill Padmé as well. They couldn't die just yet. It was too early. 

One of the guard's blades grazed his shoulder, making him hiss with pain as it cut deep. It was a nipping pain that ached down to his bone. Frustration boiled within him. He was getting nowhere. Every time he knocked one back, another one would force his attention on them. Anakin tried to calm his anger, not wanting to give in to it. He didn't want to fall into that hole. Not when they were so close to winning. "Let go," Palpatine hissed from the shadows. The shape of his cloak shifted by his throne. "Let your anger be power." Anakin gritted his teeth, the grip on his hilt tightening. One of the guards nicked his leg, making him hiss in pain once again. His vision was narrowing and becoming sharp. A low growl escaped his chest as he began hacking away at their defences. Sidious's mad cackle grated his already raw nerves. Recklessly, he knocked one of the guards back. The other one swiped, catching him in the side.

The dams in his mind burst. The cold, steady power of the dark side filled him. Reaching out a hand, he grasped all of the red guard in a force choke. Gritting his teeth and pulling his face into a sneer, he snapped their necks. Their bodies clattered to the ground with a thump. His shoulders tensed and he stared up at the throne. Palpatine was nothing more than a shadowy shape that seemed to merge with the floor itself. The odd, blue highlight caught the rim of his hood and glinted on the tip of his nose. The yellow light of his eyes glowed from underneath his hood. His hands were clasped together and his lips twisted into a wolffish grin. "Good," Sidious purred. "Can't you see, the darkside holds so much more power than the light."

Anakin grunted, twirling his blade and slowly creeping towards the hooded man. "Your reign ends today," he snapped.

"But, my dear boy, I can help you save Padmé," he goaded. Anakin froze, his brows furrowing. 

"You're the biggest risk to her right now," he snapped, reaching out to feel her just behind him. Her light was marbled and unsteady. It was wavering in and out of consciousness.

"I don't have to be," Sidious purred. Although Anakin's blade was still lit, he wasn't moving. The darkside was flowing through him, urging him to listen. "Begun merging with Malice, has she not?" he asked. Anakin's chest tightened and he straightened up. "I can keep them apart. I can ensure Malice will never see the light of day again." Although he ached with his whole heart for Padmé to remain as she is, to lock the Sith away inside of her would be unspeakably cruel. Malice had been used as an object, a tool, something less than human for far too long. Just because she was evil, didn't make it justified. If he allowed Sidious to lock her away forever, then he was just adding strength to the chains the Sith bound her with. It wasn't fair. 

Anakin's mind carefully considered Padmé's warm light. He would do nearly anything to preserve it, but he knew Padmé would kill him if he locked Malice away. It wasn't his decision to make. Clenching his jaw, he rolled his shoulders back. "I'll never join you," Anakin growled, lowering himself into a fighting stance. "You're a liar and manipulative. You probably don't even know how to keep them separated."

"My boy," Palpatine pushed himself to his feet. "I have been manipulating that mind since she was a child. Of course I can." Anakin ground his teeth. That was right. Sidious was part of the reason Padmé had gone through all this misery in the first place. His arms went tense. All of the Emperor's games ended today. With a shout of rage, he lunged after the Sith.

There was a flash of red and the emperor drew his own blade. With an enraged shout, he jumped into a vicious twirl and span in the air. The pair became locked in an intense lightsaber battle. Anakin was immensely overwhelmed. He could hardly keep up with the quick, flicking moves of the Emperor’sstyle. More than once he came dangerously close to loosing his life. Palpatine batted him around the room like a play thing. Anakin's chest was constricting and a cold tremble wracked his frame. Suddenly, Sidious thrust out a hand and sent a wave of powerful force power towards Anakin. He was knocked flat on his back. His head thwacked against the ground. The world around him span and his body went completely ridged.

"How unfortunate that you chose the wrong side," Sidious's voice chided him from above. Anakin's vision was hazy, but he could just about make out the shifting form of the Sith looming above him. Lightning crackled between gnarled finger tips. Anakin scrambled to move, but it was too late. The lightning shot towards him. Throwing a hand over his face, he tensed for impact. An impact that never came. When he peeled his eyes open, he nearly choked. Despite his hazy vision, he knew exactly what he was looking at. Four, crimson blades were ignited. They were crossed over and deflecting the powerful lightning. The air was filled with a hissing crackle. Padmé, no, more likely it was Malice, was crouched over him, defending him from Sidious's assault.

The lightning stopped and Anakin staggered to his feet. Malice also rose, taking a step back from the Sith emperor. The red light of her blades illuminated her eyes as she glanced back towards him. They were dark, nothing like the yellow he expected. His stomach clenched, but he didn't have time to ponder it before Sidious lunged at them once more. Together, they fought off the tyrannical emperor. He was a spinning tornado of aggressive strikes and crackles of lightning. Anakin struggled to keep in step with Malice for she fought erratically and as her own unit. Where the normally all consuming darkness was, only a hazy impression of it lay. 

Palpatine easily pushed them back, dancing around them in a flurry of aggressive strikes and blows. Anakin found himself complete overwhelmed. It took all he had to stop from getting hit and his attention kept slipping back to Malice. His chest felt weighted and panic prickled his insides. This couldn't be it. This couldn't be the end.

A gentle light brushed the outside of him mind. At first, he didn't recognise it for it was marbled with the dark, but before long he realised it was Padmé. So she was the one fighting? How was she the one fighting? Where had that darkness in her light come from? He supposed it did explain why her eyes were still natural. Opening his mind, he allowed a connection to form between them. Almost instantly, he was washed with calmness. The ebbing flow of Padmé's life force threaded relaxation through him. He could feel her movement and predict them as they happened. Their minds fused, allowing them to think as one cohesive unit that struck out together. Like two arms of the same body, they could be doing different things but it benefited the same cause.

With his new found peace, fending off Palpatine became much easier. In fact, he was able to start fighting back. The force was flowing through him was easily as breathing. Everything felt right. Correct. Together, he and Padmé began overwhelming the Emperor. It wasn't long till the Sith was on the ropes, evading their barrage. His occasional burst of lightning shot right past them. Padmé swiped over Sidious's head, making him duck. Anakin had already rushed in. Just like that, the emperor was impaled on the tip of Anakin's lightsaber. He let out a hiss of air. Yanking his blade out, Anakin watched with a small amount of satisfaction as the emperor's body crumbled to the ground. Taking a step back and panting for breath, he flicked his fingers at the throne. Instantly, the huge metal shields began lifting.

When they extinguished their lightsabers, the room was illuminated by the cold glow of the galaxy beyond. Anakin turned to look at Padmé. She was clipping her sabres to her belt and sleeking back a few strands of hair that had fallen loose. Now he had time to observe her, he realised what had happened. Why she felt so strange. So grey. She had merged. His heart clenched and the calm she had instilled in him boiled into upset and fear. "Padmé?" his voice cracked as he stared at her warily.

Padmé glanced up at him, the dark eyes he knew so well scanned him closely. "I know," she responded softly. Her voice was bouncy and soft like his Padmé but had a stronger Nabian twang, like Malice. The sound of it crumbled him. The floor felt uneven beneath his feet and the galaxy went cold. He could sense neither of her halves deep within her subconscious. Padmé was gone. She was one with the Sith. Letting out a shaky breath, he lowered himself wobbly to the floor, planting his head into his hands. Maybe he should have taken Sidious's offer. A glance to the crumpled fabric rubbed in his face that it wasn't an option. What was he going to do without Padmé? How could he live?

The new Padmé stalked over to him cautiously, crouching down before him. Reaching out, she hooked a finger beneath his chin and tilted his head up to stare her in the eyes. Those doe, brown eyes. They carefully considered him with a familiar warmth. "Anakin," she spoke with quiet sternness. "I told you I wasn't going anywhere, and I meant it." His brows shot up. Lifting a shaky hand, he traced the curve of her cheek with his fingertips. Leaning forwards, she planted a kiss on his forehead. His heart fluttered. When she moved to pull away, he reached out and looped his arms around her, hugging her into him. She let out a low chuckle. "I have a little more baggage now," she spoke gently, threading her hands through his hair. "But I'm sure we'll manage that."

Burrowing his face into her neck, he let out a low groan. "Baggage just makes us stronger in the long term," he whispered, basking in the sweet scent of her smell. 

"You want to know the best part?" Padmé asked. He let out a huff of air in response. "The galaxy is free."


	30. All Done!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I just discovered a very important chapter has been missing from this fic for some time. Go back and read chapter 25, I slotted it in where is was supposed to be, and enjoy!

Jungle of Dagobah was filled with life. Clones were everywhere, rejoicing together around huge, open fires. The night sky twinkled above them. Boisterous laughter and whooping cheers echoed for miles around. Jedi and troopers alike danced around, their shadowy silhouettes were illuminated by orange light. The smokey smell of whatever swamp creature they had caught and roasted lingered in the air. Padmé sat on a rock, a little ways away from the celebrations. Her dark eyes watched the dancing shoulders, crinkling in amusement. Her legs were pulled up to her chest and her arms wrapped around them.

It was strange to her, having two sets of memories and timelines in her mind. Finally, she could see how they all slotted together. There were a lot of people she had conflicting opinions on and secrets she hadn't even known she'd know. It was disorienting, but she was slowly sorting through the haze of her mind. One thing she knew for sure, was that the good, bright memories of the Senator vastly outnumbered the dark, misery filled memories of the Sith. The scale was tipping more towards the light. 

There was a familiar pair of silhouettes that neared her. Padmé watched them approach and before she knew it Anakin and Obi-Wan wordlessly sat by her side. The lapping waves of their bright presences were comforting for her, but she could sense they wanted to talk to her and simply did not know how. She gave them peace to work up the courage. There was no rush. Not anymore. 

"So, you merged?" Obi-Wan asked, cocking a brow in her direction.

"Are you worried I'll finally make good on my promise to cut out your tongue?" asked him blankly. Obi-Wan's mouth fell open. "Don't just flaunt it like that," she hummed. Obi-Wan clamped his jaw shut. The two Jedi traded a wide eyed glance, causing her to giggle. "I'm only kidding," she laughed. The relief on their faces was palpable. "Although she'd never have admitted it, Malice was quite fond of your witty banter."

"Is that so?" Obi-Wan smiled, stroking his beard. "And here I was thinking she just hated me."

"Had you not been with Anakin, she probably would have killed you the first chance she got," Padmé told him blandly. A smile warped Anakin's face and he sat up a little straighter.

"Looks like I saved your life again," Anakin chuffed, prompting an eye roll from his master.

"I've often wondered why your inability to follow the Jedi code always ends up playing to your advantage," Obi-Wan grumbled. Anakin sent him an innocent smile. "I'm curious," he turned to Padmé. "Now that you have two sets of memories, has your outlook on the galaxy changed any?"

Padmé paused, pulling her brows together. Both Jedi stared at her inquisitively. She knew they just wanted to know how deeply Malice's evil had affected her. They wanted to know if she might become a problem in the future. "I'm not about to go around and start murdering people, if that helps any," she offered. "But of course there are things my opinion has changed on. Maul, for example. I pity him." The sadness that twinkled in Kenobi's eyes told her that he thought much the same. Anakin however, scrunched his face in confusion. "Maul too was taken as a child from his clan and crafted into a weapon with means less than humane," Padmé elaborated. It made her gut clench, remembering the hours upon hours of training. The never ending pain. The misery. "I at least had a break from it as the Senator. He had nothing." Casting her eyes up to the twinkling stars, she let out a long sigh. "I want to help him one day. In many ways, he was like a brother to me."

Kenobi sent her a wide smile. "That's a lovely idea."

*

Anakin woke slowly. He was lying on a soft bed, fluffy duvets and plush pillows were gathered around him. Padmé was cradled into his chest, his arms wrapped tightly around her. Heat radiated out from her skin and her sweet smell blanched his senses. He burrowed his face into her back. Strips of morning sunlight streamed in through the blinds, washing him with warmth. The golden beams cradled the soft curve of Padmé's shoulder and made her hair glitter and gleam. Their force presences danced around one another and he could feel her steadily returning to consciousness, much to his disappointment. "Good morning," he whispered into her back, his voice was croaky and rough.

"Good morning," Padmé chuckled back lightly. Her hand lifted to his forearm, gently patting it for release. He squeezed her closer, planting a kiss between her shoulder blades. She stretched her arms out in front of her, her shoulders clicking. With a groan, she began picking herself up. Anakin didn't relent his grip, cuddling her like a child with a teddy bear.

"No," he moaned. "Just a little longer."

Padmé let out a little giggle. "Alright, but you know we're probably not going to get much more peace," she responded settling back down in his arms. He let out a loud grumble in response. She twisted around and pulled his head into her chest, cradling it there. Her heartbeat was steady. Calm. He allowed it to lull him back into a sense of peace and nearly fell asleep one more. He focused on the whoosh of her breath. The lull of her force presence.

The serenity was short lived, as Padmé predicted. Within moments, he heard the thundering of tiny footsteps and childish giggles. "Here comes trouble," Anakin sighed, rolling away from Padmé and onto his back. Just as he finished speaking, the door to their bedroom flung open. Anakin hadn't ever lifted his head to look and he felt some collide with him from above. He curled in on himself, letting out a strained wheeze. 

"Good morning daddy!" a childish voice cried. Anakin stared up to see a little girl sitting on his stomach. Her grin was missing teeth and her dark, wild hair was a mess of unkept frizz. Padmé laughed from beside Anakin as a little blonde boy, with matching missing teeth, clambered gently into her arms.

"Good morning Leia," Anakin greeted the little girl, gently grasping her arm and stroking it. The little girl flopped down on his chest and wrapped her arms tightly around his neck. He draped his own over her back and squeezed her close. He deeply inhaled her sweet scent, a smile curling his lips. Padmé easy twirling strands of Luke's silky hair around her finger. He was peacefully curled into her chest. His brilliant sapphire eyes blinked slowly. Carefully.

"Who's ready for school?" Padmé croaked. There came a simultaneous groan from both children, prompting a laugh from their father. After a short while of being embraced, the little family began getting ready for their day. After all, they had places to be and deadlines to meet. Fortunately however, nobody would be in life threatening danger. The only real danger they faced, was Anakin's reckless driving.


End file.
